


Pandora's Box

by flowerpeddler



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn, i don’t edit I’m sorry LOOOL, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23900767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerpeddler/pseuds/flowerpeddler
Summary: If you had any say in this, maybe you wouldn't be paired up with such a vexing clean-freak during your missions. Working with him is like opening Pandora's Box, except you can't find any ounce of Hope like the myths say. [sakusa kiyoomi/reader]
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 90
Kudos: 242





	1. ADVENT

They say curiosity killed the cat, but in your case, it seems like curiosity has sent your partner into a coma.

It seems so surreal now that the aftermath of your foolish decisions has reared its ugly head in the form of a sterile hospital room and the timely beeps of the heart monitor. Is any of this real or not? The bleariness of your vision makes it hard for you to keep your grasp on reality, and there's a tightening in your chest that makes it hard for you to breathe properly.

"Suga..." your voice is a weary croak, and no matter how many times you clear your throat, your voice betrays you over and over again.

Eyes shut with the promise of deep slumber, your partner looks also serene in the hospital bed. The white sheets and walls match his pale complexion and silvery hair, and all that's missing is his blinding and reassuring smile that has encouraged you time and time again during any of your hard missions. Biting your lower lip, you rest your hand on his, half-hoping he'd grasp it like he always did. When he doesn't, a stab of guilt and melancholy corrodes any hope that had been bestowed on you upon entering the room. If only you hadn't been so careless, he would have never been placed in this misfortune.

"(Name)." A calloused hand rests on your shoulder, jolting you back to reality. "Don't blame yourself for this," another colleague, Sawamura Daichi, mumbles as he takes a seat next to you. Feeling more grounded, you can smell his faint cologne and hear the roar of the bustling Tokyo streets outside. It reminds you of your own life, and you suddenly feel guilty for your friend's current state.

"But it's my fault," you protest weakly, wiping away a stray tear with the back of your other hand. "It's okay if you resent me- really. It was my idea to get a closer look at the vault."

"You didn't know."

You nearly scoff at that. "Yeah, an international agent like me didn't know there'd be so much security around an expensive vault, right?" you spit sarcastically, though you instantly regret it upon seeing the heavy scowl on Daichi's face. "Sorry. I just... thought we took enough precautions, but we weren't careful enough. I wasn't careful enough."

Daichi is a patient man; he has been- even when the three of you were kids. Once, you had borrowed some money from him when you were in a pinch, but he never rushed you to pay him back. All he had done was keep a close eye on you until you were ready to pay off your debt, like a real friend would. Even now, there's a forgiving glint waiting in his eyes- something you've always been grateful for. It brings you a sense of solace, but it's almost not enough to appease your heart just yet.

"But _you_ rescued him. We know he'd be more than grateful once he wakes up," he points out, gesturing towards the bedridden male. "What matters is that the two of you came back alive. I trust that you've gathered enough intel if you were confident enough to persist on this mission."

He always did know how to make you feel a bit better. "We did," you agree with a small smile creeping onto your lips. "Thank God we did, otherwise it'll all have been in vain." You'd feel more abysmal knowing you couldn't get proper information, so last night you had thanked every last one of your lucky stars for your team's mild success.

His lips mirroring your own, he stands up and offers you a hand. "We'd better see Shimizu and report to her then," he suggests as the two of you simultaneously. "Do you think you're ready?"

Your gaze falls onto Suga's chest, which rises and fall with every second. For a brief moment, you're frightened that it'll stop undulating, but you force yourself to rip your eyes from his peaceful form. "Yeah. It's time I report to her," you finally say before pulling your hand from his to hold Daichi's.

As he leads you out of your company's private hospital, you take in a shaky breath. Suga has always been stubborn- stupidly stubborn. So much so that he always agrees with whatever plan you have in mind, regardless of how risky it would be. After all, his pleads and convincing are part of the reason why you're in the espionage business now. Knowing him, he'd wake up soon, but that left the question of your future missions in store now. You aren't confident in your ability to handle Shimizu's tasks by yourself, but everyone has already been paired up with another spy by now.

"Hey, Dai," you begin, squeezing his hand. "Do you think she'll fire me? I-I don't have a viable partner right now, and my mission with the governor is too much for me to do by myself."

He snorts and tugs you along faster. "You think she'd do that? Absolutely not. She'll probably pair you up with someone like Kuroo-san or Akaashi-san."

You know he's right; Shimizu has a knack for being a sensible and a sympathetic boss. Even more so since she's always had a soft spot for you, but the recent incident still has you shaking and anxious. Hauling a beat-up and unconscious Suga back to the building is not exactly the best way to end your evening, especially when your ribs are this bruised. It's a miracle the two of you left the politician's mansion out alive, given that dozens of security officers had been scouring the area. Even if you two had immobilized the majority of them, the ones that had caught you gave the both of you hell.

Finally, the two of you make it to her office, where the guards, Tanaka and Taketora stand in front of the door. They both recognize you immediately and nod in acknowledgement as they swiftly move away from the door. Plastered onto the dark wood is a replication of a crow, but its beady eyes singe a hole to your soul. You know you have nothing to be worried about, but it makes you feel uneasy anyways.

"So you're okay after all, (Name)," Tanaka says, relieved. There are dark circles painted under his eyes, and you have no doubt he's struggling to stay awake even now.

"Barely," you mutter, giving him a small smile. "My ribs are bruised as hell. Suga ended up protecting me from most of the damages..."

"But he's okay too, right?" Taketora checks. "As long as the two of you are alive."

Daichi gives you a pointed look. "And that's what I said. I'm sure Shimizu will feel the same. Come on."

Gingerly, you knock on the door for her approval. "Shimizu-san, it's (Name) and Daichi," you say softly, in case if she's working on something at the moment. With the recent news of Suga's coma, you don't want to be any more of a bother than you already are. She's probably working on documents concerning his recent injuries, and it brings another pang of guilt to the pit of your stomach.

"Come in."

The large, black door opens as her nervous intern, Yachi, ushers the two of you into the clean room. It's dark- illuminated the peek of sunlight from behind her navy curtains and the frequent candles along the room. The scent of lavender wafts around you; it suits her well, you suppose. The furniture is dark, from ebony desks to the deep walnut of her flooring. Everything about her office screams sophistication and authority, much like the woman in front of you.

"You're safe, (Name)," she comments, looking up from the stack of paperwork laid in front of her. "Besides what happened with Suga, how did the job go?"

You straighten your posture before you clear your throat. "Well enough. It was a little difficult, but I think we have the information we needed. After checking in at the vault, we could detect that most of the governor's vault is genuine. Of course, he's a fairly young man with a new career, so it's a little suspicious for him to acquire that much value in such a short amount of time. Suga believes he's from a middle-class family, so it's unlikely that it's been inherited. It could be possible that it's been stolen."

"And did they see your face?"

You shake your head, watching the way her blue eyes pierce through you. "They have not. Both of us were disguised and wearing masks and got away before they could do anything else."

"I see," says Shimizu, pressing her sleek pen to her lips. "Do you know why I had you focus on him?"

"To prove his thievery."

"No. He actually hired our corporation for us to look into some issues of his." Her smile is gentle, like fragile glass, but you know that, much like glass itself, her sharp smile can cut.

You furrow your eyebrows, and you can hear a confused noise from Daichi. "You had us spy on our client?"

"Yes. You're right- he _is_ a suspicious character, which is why I had you look over him to see what he's like. You're one of the best agents we have, so I had you on this job. That being said, he did have concerns of someone out to assassinate him. If you're right about his thievery, we can assume stolen goods are part of the reason why he's being targeted." The pen leaves her lips to scribble something down on a note pad.

"Part of the reason?" you repeat, confused. Just who is this governor to have this much money and guards? It's iffy, to say the least, and knowing that he'd be under the company's care is unsettling.

The scent of lavender grows stronger as she smiles once more. "It's where you come in. You're one of our best, so you'll be handling this case. Find out why he's being targeted and who has motives to." She says this so simply, so matter-of-factly that you need a moment to process this.

You can hardly believe your ears. A part of you feels thrilled to bits to know that your superior has you on such a high pedestal with such impressive standards, but a bigger portion of you feels nervous. What happens if you're to let her down due to any mistakes or incompetence? Not to mention, with Suga in a _coma_ , who would you be working with? Your blood freezes at the frigid thought; does she have such high expectations that she wants you to do this job by yourself?

You won't dare defy her, though, not with the way her eyes evaluate you as you mull over your response. From the corners of your eyes, you can see Daichi glance over at you nervously. He nudges you, as if beckoning you to hurry up and give her a proper response.

"Of course you won't be handling this by yourself," she adds when you don't respond. "We haven't had a case this serious in a few months, so I'll be assigning you someone who can carry his weight. He's only joined us recently, but he's been quite popular as of late. Yachi, will you get him for me?"

The small, blonde girl nods immediately and bows to you and Daichi before scurrying out of the dark office. Relief floods you like a relentless tsunami, and you're a drought in need of water. So you _are_ getting a new partner for the time-being after all. Knowing you won't be alone appeases any anxiety inducing thoughts, and quite frankly, you can't care less as to who it could be as long as there's someone who will have your back.

"Right. Of course." The rapid thumping in your chest quells down with each passing moment as you find solace in her generosity. "May I ask who it could be?"

"Have you met Sakusa-san yet?" Shimizu asks, jotting down more notes and signatures for her papers. She flips through them quickly, and you're left mesmerized by how deft and quick her fingers are. Briefly, you wonder why she hasn't been physically participating in jobs when she's this efficient, but maybe it's a question to ask her when the two of you are closer.

You've heard of him- the promising rookie of Hyuukai's secret police and intelligence agency. Apparently, he's so adept and clever that he's been cutting down the expected mission times to almost half. It's actually exciting to anticipate the way the two of you will work together, but you can't help but wonder if you dull in comparison to his accomplishments.

"No, not yet," you admit, glancing over at Daichi, who just shrugs.

"Don't fret. He's a very capable agent, and I have faith in the two of you," she encourages, finally looking up from her papers. There's a knock on the door. "That must be him. Come in."

Swiftly, the door opens to reveal a very jumpy Yachi and a tall man standing behind her. Compared to the intern, he towers over her- and probably you as well. His coloring has such stark contrast that it's almost ethereal. With jet black hair, wintery skin, and eyes that compare to cold obsidian, he looks devastatingly good. In fact, you'd say that he even compares to a supermodel on the cover of magazines instead of a qualified secret agent. The only off-putting part of him is the surgical mask wrapped around the lower part of his face, but you can sense how attractive he would be without it.

"Shimizu-san," he says in acknowledgement, though his words are slightly muffled by the mask.

"Hello," Shimizu greets him before turning to you. "(Name), Sakusa-san will be your new partner until Suga's recovery. He's usually unpaired since he's so new and tends to work better alone. I have no doubt that the two of you will make one of Hyuukai's finest teams yet."

You glance up at the tall man, who peers at you like you're some kind of bug. "It's nice to meet you, Sakusa-san," you hold out your hand. "I look forward to working with you."

"The sentiment is mutual." His gaze is aloof, and you can't sense any empathy in his Stygian eyes.

Instead, his staring at your hand makes you feel more than self-conscious, especially with the way he glares at it, willing it to disappear. It's enough to make you feel small and disliked already. For someone worthy of such high praise, he seems too stoic for your liking. It's like he refuses to deign to your level, and the thought brings a sour taste to your mouth. For a few seconds, your hand floats in the air, only to be pulled down when he averts his gaze back on your boss. His apathy and refusal to even shake your damn hand summons a stab of annoyance and offense to you. Rolling your eyes, you just exchange a look with Daichi before turning to Shimizu.

"That is all," Shimizu acknowledges, going back to her work. "The two of you may relax for today, but I expect progress starting tomorrow."

Nodding, Sakusa bids you farewell and promptly exits the office, leaving you to mourn your newfound partnership with the dismal man.


	2. IMPENDING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> strangers? enemies? none of the above? you decide

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?"

You slam your chopsticks down on your napkin, and the table rumbles at the impact."We're... we're not _enemies_ ," you sputter out indignantly. "I bet he just doesn't take to strangers easily. It's not like he hates me, Tooru."

Oikawa places down another plate of side dishes. It's full of pickled tsukemono, and Daichi wastes no time in grabbing a hefty amount with his chopsticks. The only thing the three of you can hear in the room is the soft lull of the television in the background and the clinking of dinnerware as the men before you continue to eat the dinner Oikawa had prepared. What amuses you most is that it's not even his kitchen- it's Iwaizumi's, who still has yet to come home from work.

Daichi eyes you warily. "(Name), he looked like he wanted to blow-torch you alive." He waves his chopsticks in the air as if to make a point.

Huffing angrily, you pick up your chopsticks and pick away the bones of your herring. It's too salty for your liking, but you'd never tell Oikawa any criticisms about his cooking. The tawny-haired agent would probably skin you alive and serve you to the others for the next meal- or worse, never cook for you again.

"That's not true," you say halfheartedly, and the three of you all know you're lying straight through your teeth. "He could very well just have horrible RBF or... or he's socially anxious!" you snap your fingers in realization. "That's it! He'll warm up in no time!"

_Ping!_

Faster than you can react, Oikawa swiftly grabs your phone and scrolls through your endless notifications you couldn't bother to check. "It's Sakusa-san," he drawls out, his eyes glued onto your phone screen. "Oh, wow- would'ja look at that! He's texting you about how he believes in love at first sight- oh my! Now he wants to go on a date with you...?" he places his spoon down on top of his soup bowl, and his thumbs dance across his screen.

"I don't even have his number," you protest, words muffled by the silverware in your mouth.

"Now you do."

A smirk on his face is never a good sign, and he's grinning like a cat who got the cream. "Hey! Give that back!" you hiss, reaching over the grab the phone. 

Instead, Oikawa just scoots his chair away as he continues to orchestrate his probably terrible text. "Relax. I'm doing you a favor-"

You can hear the door open. "Why the hell are you all in my kitchen? Did you break into my apartment?" a new voice grumbles, and you look over to see a disgruntled Iwaizumi, who just glares at the scene in front of him.

"Iwa-chan! You'll never believe this. Today, (Name)-chan got a new partner for work, and-"

"Iwa-chan-senpai!" you cry out, pointing at the brown-haired _thief_. "He took my phone and won't give it back! Dai, why aren't you doing anything?" you make a face at your closest friend, who just rolls his eyes.

Daichi just glances at you before finishing off the rest of his dinner. "Thanks for the food. I want no part in this," he yawns, stretching. "I didn't know you were my responsibility."

"'Iwa-chan-senpai...?'" Iwaizumi repeats with a bewildered expression on his face as he shakes his head in disapproval. "Stop messing around, you two. Give her back the phone, dumbass. How the hell did you guys even get inside?"

"Oh, I took your key. You have the nicest home out of all of us, so we decided to come here," Oikawa says nonchalantly as he slides your phone back to you. "Here. You'll thank me later, (Name)-chan." You grab the phone only to see an incoming call with an unknown number.

" _You took my_ -"

"Incoming call? Is this Sakusa's number?!" you nearly screech at the vibrating device in your hands. Oikawa just bats his eyelashes at you as he grins at you.

Your heart thumps wildly, and it feels like your life is moving in slow motion. Should you pick up? You have no idea why he'd call unless if Oikawa had sent him a text so profane or vulgar that he felt obligated to call you. What the hell did that nasty rat man even send him?! It feels like you're stuck in a dream or a cauldron of goo, and you can't bring yourself to move an inch. Instead, the screen continues to blink as the device buzzes in your hand.

As if he hasn't already created enough chaos for you, Oikawa just leans over and accepts the call for you. Immediately, you bring the phone to your ears as you shove a grinning Oikawa and curious Daichi away. "Um, hello?" you say hesitantly, turning around in your seat so none of the idiots with you can see your face.

"I would prefer it if we called instead. It's more efficient." His voice is just as rich as you remember, and it doesn't help when your heart leaps into your throat.

"Right. Of course!" you swallow hard. "So, about the text I sent..." you brace yourself for what he could say next.

Sakusa is quiet over on his end of the line. "It's a good idea," he admits. "I have some time right now."

Time... right now? Suddenly, horror sinks into your veins as soon as you realize that Oikawa must have sent something about seeing him tonight. The thought of meeting up with the stoic and cold man is enough to send your stomach into jitters, and quite honestly, anxiety pulses through your blood. Gnawing on your lip, you can't help but bounce your leg up and down in anticipation at the possibilities.

You whip your head around to glare at your cheeky friend. What did he send? "Oh, really?" you ask, keeping your demon glare on the grinning male. Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes and settles down at the table to pick away at your leftovers. As calm and collected as ever, Daichi just motions for you to continue.

"I can meet you in front of Hyuukai's building in ten minutes."

The Hyuukai's building is disguised as a consulting firm for safety purposes, so meeting up with him at this hour might look like you're picking up a boyfriend after work. The implications of being seen out in public with him makes your mouth run dry. Your mind is whirling at the thought.

You know the others can hear his words, considering how quiet the kitchen is, and now even Iwaizumi is looking over at you in interest. The palms of your hands feel cold and sweaty, and every nerve in your body is screeching at you to reject- but you're just too curious. What did Oikawa send that could pique _Sakusa_ 's interest? At the very least, it seems like it must have been a relatively harmless text if he isn't scolding you.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your eye sockets. "Um. Yeah. Sure. See you there then?"

The line just clicks off, and Daichi can't help but snicker. "He didn't even say goodbye," he mutters, hiding his smile behind his hand. "He just hung up?"

"Shut up," you grumble, pulling on your cardigan as you check the time. Ten minutes... You could definitely make it, but you'd have to leave Iwaizumi's apartment now if that's the case.

"I told you he asked you out on a date," Oikawa teases, sticking his tongue out. 

That's right! The text! Quickly, you open up your recent messages, tapping on the thread with Sakusa's number. After saving his number into your contact list, you scroll up to see what in the world he had sent you- and what Oikawa had sent him.

 _It's Sakusa Kiyoomi. We should meet up to discuss the mission Shimizu expects from us,_ Sakusa's text reads.

Right below that is, _hiiii Sakusa-san~ it's SO good to hear from you. if you're available now, how about we meet up for a bit? i just finished dinner~ we can talk over some bingsoo or hot cocoa~?_ _♡_

Disgusting. In what world do you text like that? "I hate you, Tooru," you mutter. "I guess I gotta go."

"He might actually burn you alive if you're late," Daichi says, grinning.

"Why do you find my misery so entertaining?" you retort, opening the door as you slip on your shoes. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

As they all chorus your goodbyes to you, the door is promptly shut. Thankfully, Iwaizumi only lives a few minutes away from the agency. Most of the agents do for convenience since the agency covers part of your rent, but some of your friends live quite a distance away. Maybe that's why Oikawa always tends to crash at one of your places most nights, so he doesn't have to commute.

The Tokyo air is warmer than usual, especially for a January night. Still, the wind lingers around your skin, willing goosebumps on your skin, and you hold your cardigan against your body tighter for any extra warmth it can bring you. Even at seven in the evening, the sky is remarkably light; the cotton candy clouds drift past the moon as you walk. The wind tonight must be strong if the clouds are moving at that pace.

When the silhouette of the building approaches your field of vision, your heart starts to race again. Is it because of how handsome your partner is? Or is it because of how intimidating Sakusa-san could be?

Just like the two of you had agreed on, the tall man is standing in front of the automatic doors. The warm glow of the building lights illuminates all of his highlighted features, and the thumping in your chest quickens. Unlike during the work day, he's wearing a large pea-coat, and his surgical mask has been swapped out for a black cloth mask that somehow suits him impeccably.

"Sakusa-san," you greet, holding your hand up. 

The agent glances at you, and you can see two beauty marks above his eyebrow. "(Surname)-san." You suck in a shallow breath at this. It's the first time he's used your name, and curiously, it brings a small smile to your face. "Don't come any closer."

Never mind.

"What?" you look at him in perplexity. "Did you just say-"

"Don't come any closer," he repeats, ghastly eyes narrowing at your approaching figure. "I highly doubt you showered in the ten minutes after my phone call, so I don't want you coming any closer."

You freeze in your tracks. Was this guy some kind of germaphobe? That would explain the masks, but... "Um, okay. I'm not sick or dirty, though."

Your hair might smell like the dinner Oikawa had cooked, but it's not like you're some kind of sewer rat. In fact, you pride yourself on having clean skin and hair! Most of your colleagues have asked you for your skincare routine or the products you use, so having Sakusa bark at you like you're a dingy stray animal kind of offends you.

"Considering we've known each other for only half a day, I can't bring myself to trust anything that comes out of your mouth."

You've heard rumors of how prickly this guy is, but every word punches you straight in the gut. Really, it's normal to have a few trust issues, especially with strangers, but hearing your alleged partner-in-crime tell you he didn't trust you is an unpleasant and bitter experience in it itself. Who hurt you, Sakusa-san?

"How... cautious of you," you say with a strained smile. "Okay, well, should we go somewhere to sit down?"

He makes a face. "You want to discuss our mission in _public_? Shimizu-san said you were competent, yet you're acting like a newbie agent."

The way he says it makes you want to snatch that mask right off his face and sneeze on him.

"I _am_ competent. I'm just suggesting something so we don't freeze! It's January, Sakusa-san," you snap, sticking your icy hands into your pockets as if to prove a point.

"It's January, but you texted me saying you wanted bingsoo."

Goddammit, Tooru. "Alright, I actually didn't text you. I was having dinner with some of the other agents, and Toor- Oikawa-san ended up taking my phone to text you that. He was just having fun, so I don't really care we go- if we even go somewhere right now," you clarify, but you secretly hope the two of you will sit in a warm cafe, away from prying eyes and curious ears. All you really want is to get out of the winter air, but it seems like Sakusa is pickier than you had expected.

"So you don't actually text like that," comments Sakusa. "Good. It came off as immature over the phone."

"Are you purposefully trying to be mean to me, Sakusa-san?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No," he answers almost immediately as he adjusts the mask on his face. "I just don't see why I should put in the effort to suck up to you. This is just how I am with most people. You ask too many questions."

Huh?

You feel sorry for all of his former partners from other branches; they had to deal with this unpleasant man for every mission? Maybe Daichi and Tooru were right. It's not just that he's bad with people, but maybe he really doesn't want to be around you. A part of you is already fed up- maybe you should go back to Iwaizumi's or go home so you won't have to talk to this brick wall of a man. It's almost too troublesome for you.

But Shimizu is depending on you, and a part of you owes it to Suga to do your best in the field to make up for your mistakes in the last mission. With a deep breath and a twitching eye, you offer him a forced smile that hardly reaches your eyes. Once you've recovered your patience again, you clear your throat, grabbing the grievous agent's attention.

"Right. Anyways, I doubt anyone will catch onto us as long as we're secretive enough. There's a coffee shop just down the road if you'd like to talk there," you propose, glancing at the thorny man.

To your dismay, he still looked annoyed, a deplorable expression plastered on his face. "...Bingsoo."

"What?"

"Coffee is too bitter," he mumbles, pulling out his phone. After a few moments of scrolling, he shows you the bright screen and points to the page of a glitzy bingsoo parlor. "I'd rather get bingsoo if we're going to sit down somewhere."

Interesting- so he has a sweet tooth then. It's a bit startling. For someone so bristly, his taste in desserts is awfully uncharacteristic. Upon first glance, you would have never guessed him to enjoy shaved ice, especially in the dead of winter. The weather _has_ been relatively mild lately, but there's still a nip in the air that would normally urge people to go for hot cocoa or a latte instead of an ice-based dessert. Not to mention, this shop looks a little gaudy, and you have no doubt that someone as dark as him would stand out like a sore thumb. Does he frequent this cafe often?

"That's something you split between people. Are you really okay with sharing from the same bowl?" you ask, watching his expression as you follow him to the cafe.

"I'll just put mine in a Styrofoam bowl they have before we eat. Get away from me- you're too close."

He's impossible to figure out, you conclude.


	3. PROSCRIPTIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you and sakusa eat bingsoo in the dead of winter

The air outside is frigid. The bingsoo in your styrofoam bowl is freezing. Your hands still feel like they're composed of ice from the bitter winds outside.

None of it compares to the winter storm in Sakusa's eyes as he fiercely evaluates you. As calculating as ever, he studies you with such an intensity that it makes you feel like an obseqious lab rat getting dissected by a mad scientist for the sake of data and research. It gets to the point where the matcha-strawberry of the shaved iced tastes sickly sweet, and you really can't eat anymore of this sugared ice with him glaring at you like that.

"Can you not look at me like that when we're eating bingsoo?" you ask, clearly agitated. "It's unsettling, Sakusa-san."

He uncouthly ignores your request and continues scrutinizing every inch of your face. Had he not been so intimidating, you might think that he's some frivolous man with a crush on you, but you know better. "Why did you need a new partner?"

"He got hurt in our last mission..." you look down at the melting puddle of matcha green and most likely GMO strawberries. The taste is so strong and robust that it clings to your tongue even when you just _look_ at it. "This would be easier with him, but I can fill you in on anything you need to know-"

"Why did he get hurt? Are the two of you that incompetent?"

Your throat feels dry, and your grasp on the bowl tightens. "No."

"Unless if either of you were sick, I see no other excuse than your inability to properly carry out missions," Sakusa says bluntly, digging out a strawberry from his own styrofoam bowl. It slips off the tiny plastic spoon, and you glare at him when he's forced to scoop it out again.

"You know... As close to perfect as I am, I'm still only human," you reason, waving your spoon in the air. He eyes it in disgust.

"You're going to spread your saliva if you do that," he grumbles, promptly finishing off the rest of his bingsoo so he can replace his mask on his face. "Did you never learn table manners when you were younger?"

"Of course I did! I think you're just too unreasonable," you snap suddenly, starting to get fed up with this man and his undeniably abrasive personality. This is getting ridiculous, and you have to admit both Tooru and Daichi are right. "I like to think I'm pretty mindful of my cleanliness, but I think you're just too paranoid at this point."

And just like that, the frigid stare melts and melts, but it doesn't stop until it develops into a glare full of fiery disdain. Instead of freezing you in place, it forces you to melt until you're a pool of insecurity in your own seat. Even with his mask on, Sakusa likely has a sneer on his face. You shudder at the range of this man. A demon of ice and fire. Whether you'd perish from the frigid winds of his words or the blazing hellfire of his glares, you just want to get this mission done with so you can avoid him from here on out.

"You," he begins with a scowl so deep that you can see his mask crinkle. "Are just too careless. I haven't fallen ill in years because of my hygiene. I have no doubt you've fallen ill in the past year- perhaps this winter, even. "I would say you are not being reasonable _enough_."

Not reasonable enough? Sure, you _did_ catch this year's flu a month ago, but it's not like you hadn't taken protective measures! In fact, you pride yourself for being so hygienic that you rarely even fall sick! This year had just been a fluke! If anything, it could have been attributed to the carelessness of the person who you had caught the flu from. Sakusa is just too paranoid; it's not like you currently have anything to spread to him right now.

Annoyance flares in you for what seems to be the sixtieth time tonight. "We are going to get nowhere if we keep arguing like this," you mutter, resting your head on your hand. "How childish can you be?"

For a few brief seconds, he says nothing before leaning back into his seat and rolling his eyes. "You're the one who keeps arguing with me. And here you are, complaining and calling me childish."

It reminds you that, no matter how shitty his personality is, Sakusa is still your coworker. Maybe if you show him some respect, eventually, he'll do the same. For now, you have no other choice but to swallow your pride and actually work on the case. You're damned if he's the reason why you don't get any work done in the agency.

You can't help but match his scowl at his point. "Fine. Here are the files about the governor. I don't know if Shimizu-san has given you them, but it's what I've been using with Sugawara for the past week." You fish out a folder from your bag and slide it over to him, mindful to not let the manila folder get drenched from stray droplets of flavored syrup.

He picks it up and flips it open. "She said she was going to give me the files tomorrow, but I suppose a quick look couldn't hurt," he mumbles as his eyes trace over the words. "You came back from investigating this governor?"

"Yeah. It turns out Shimizu had me confirm his identity for the previous mission because he hired Hyuukai for his own personal problems," you snort. "Sugawara and I saw some treasure in his vault, and supposedly, it's all been stolen goods. Too bad we didn't account for him defending things _that_ heavily- who knew he was rich enough to hire dozens upon dozens of guards?"

Sakusa doesn't look up from the files, but his eyebrows furrow together as he continues to read. "I'm sure there must be some people after him for thievery then. And he's committed tax fraud as a governor for a major prefecture, too?" he looks up at you after flipping to the second page, and his expression is almost unreadable. "We have to work for someone like this?" he sounds displeased.

Daisho Suguru, currently Japan's youngest governor, is the one governing the prefecture of Tokyo. You've heard only good things about him for the past three and a half years, so it had been shocking to read all these facts and statistics from the portfolio Shimizu had given you. You hadn't realize just how sneaky he could be underneath that well-behaved mask of his, but you suppose power has the ability to corrupt people to the point they would use underhanded tactics. It's a shame, really; you had voted for him in the last election.

In fact, you feel a little bitter that he had been the indirect cause of your partner's coma, but you can't be too picky. A job is a job, and you're actually quite lucky that he hadn't caught a glimpse of your face that fateful night.

You lean in a little closer so the other customers don't hear you. "Exactly. These are part of the reasons why he's being targeted for assassination. Probably from someone who doesn't want him in office for the next term, considering election season is almost upon us. Still, I can't help but feel this is a little extreme- no one knows if he'll even be re-elected, so why go through all the trouble that assassination could bring you?"

The issue of politics is nothing to laugh at; it could bring about a myriad of dangerous people and dangerous actions. In your opinion, it's too mercurial and controversial, so you try not to meddle too much with it during your missions. It's one thing to avoid death on your missions, but it's a whole different animal to get death threats on a daily. You wonder what motivates people to go through such lengths- getting caught with assassination plans would surely bring a bundle of serious problems in itself.

After flipping through the last page, he shuts the folder and hands it back to you. "Regardless of his suspicious background, the public only knows of his diplomatic front, and he has a high approval rating. I have no doubt he'll be one of the front-runners for the election. Assassination is extreme, but I suppose extremities mean nothing to some."

"Politics is full of masked monsters and those blinded by a sense of justice," you mutter, sighing and leaning back into your seat. "Makes you really think about who's in the right or wrong here, huh? The corrupt politician or the antihero?" you muse curiously.

He scoffs. "This isn't some novel- someone's life is on the line, and we're responsible and getting paid to save the said life."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Do you even have any friends with a personality like that, Sakusa-san?" you ask as sweetly as you can, but the burning desire to smack him never fades from your blood.

"I'm not here to be friends with you, (Surname)-san," he replies briskly. "We're coworkers."

"Strange- I don't have the overwhelming urge to punch my other coworkers, but I guess you're a very particular case," you chime gleefully, trying to mask the irritation underlying every word.

He avoids your gaze. "I really couldn't care about how you see me, as long as we get our job done. Don't be late tomorrow- we should go meet the governor after I pick up the files from Shimizu-san."

The chair screeches against the floor when he stands up and grabs the tray of melted bingsoo. From where you are, he looks like an absolute demon, unforgiving and wicked, from the way he towers above you. As he places the tray back onto the counter, you can't help but scowl at him. When he finally does leave the bingsoo parlor without even giving you a second glance or even a goodbye, you immediately pull out your phone to type out a message to your friends.

_okkkkk, you guys were right- he freakin hates me. bar in ten minutes? the one near the butt tree?_

If you have to work with this strange and rude germaphobe for God knows _how_ long, you aren't going to do it without the support of your closest friends and the support of alcohol.


	4. SOLICIT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> come along

If you consider Sakusa to be an intimidating, he pales in comparison to the silent, sneaky wrath of Daisho Suguru.

Even as the governor offers you a well-intended smile, the hairs on your arms strand straight with anxiety as you grasp his hand in a firm handshake. Everything about him screams danger, and there's nothing else you want to do besides leave the building in fear of what he could do to you. It takes every muscle in your body to return the smile and stay put, considering this is such an important mission to Shimuzu and the rest of the company.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. I've heard impressive comments about Hyuukai from colleagues," croons the governor, his voice laced with sugar and honey.

"Is that so?" hums Sakusa, extending his gloved hand to Daisho. It's an uncharacteristic sight, but you suppose neither of you can afford to be less than cordial in the face of an esteemed politician. "I hope we surpass your standards."

Daisho just continues to smile, lips curled in a pretense of charm. "I'm sure the two of you have been debriefed on current conditions?"

You know exactly what he's talking about. It's hard to rid your mind of the rest of the file contents you had read after a martini with your loyal men at your favorite bar. It had been difficult to focus on the words through the haze of gin clouding your vision, but there had been no mistake in the long list of potential culprits for every last one of the death threats directed towards the governor. You could hardly believe your own eyes at just how many enemies one man could have.

"It won't be easy," you smoothly remind him. "But Hyuukai will absolutely guarantee your safety."

It looks like the hardest case you'd have since becoming a secret agent, but you're confident in your own abilities- as well as Sakusa's, no matter how aloof and bitter he could be towards you. Admittedly, it will likely take some time for you two to go through the entire list and narrow down the list, especially since time is short on both of your hands. With the election coming up just at the end of May, it seems that you and Sakusa will have to act fast since the universe has left Hyuukai only half a year to protect the governor's life at the most. Any plans of assassination could come up even before the election, so the two of you should stay vigilant in case of a premature scheme.

"It's not me I'm concerned about. I'm certain my men will be able to stop any plans, but you're here to find the culprit," the governor clarifies, sitting down in a luxurious, leather chair. "So I can punish them thoroughly."

A chill runs down your spine at this. Whatever you do in the future, the last thing you want to do is get on this man's nasty side. You have no doubt he'd be able to break you in half with what power he holds in both palms. His slanted, chartreuse eyes pierce you knowingly, and you bite the inside of your cheek as to not break eye contact with the clever politician.

"I will say I have one worry, though," he adds, placing his hands on the back of his head. "I've recently had these threats extend to people close to me- particularly my fiance. She's especially anxious, so I'd like the two of you to stay with her for the rest of the day as well as periodically check up on her."

"Yamaka-san?" you had read that they had recently gotten engaged this year somewhere in your files.

You glance down at your current outfit- is this the reason why you've been requested to show up to the governor's mansion in casual clothing? If you had known you'd be frolicking around with his fiance in order to keep her mind off death threats, you would have dressed a bit better, but the beige sweater and light jeans on you would have to do for now.

As expected, Sakusa is dressed just as cleanly as ever. He's wearing the pea coat from last night, and it's almost frustrating how well it suits him. Today, his mask is removed from his face for politeness, but you know the real reason for his "winter gloves."

Sakusa's eyebrows furrow together. "This happened today?" he guessed.

Daisho pulls a handle from underneath his desk and slides an envelope over. "Just this morning," he confirms, motioning for you to take the ivory envelope, stamped in gold and jade. "I know she could use the distraction, and I trust you to take her out to keep her mind off things. If we're lucky, maybe the rats will show up if they see she's outside."

Inside the envelope is a handful of five-thousand and ten-thousand yen notes. A pang of uncertainty stabs your stomach upon realizing that this is likely blood money or money he's stolen, but you can't afford to be picky. If he wants you to treat his fiance out for the sake of her comfort and to ease her mind, you have no other option but to agree.

"Understood," you state firmly as you pass Sakusa the hefty envelope, and he easily takes it and slips it into a pocket inside his coat. "We'll will ensure her comfort and safety today."

Daisho nods, pleased. "Very well. Please have her return before dinner time, and you are more than welcome to the funds you don't use today. I'll be working on some projects for the day, so please meet her in the foyer where she should be waiting for you."

You and your partner bow to him respectfully before the other guards in the room can snap at either of you, and quickly, you're both ushered out of the room to leave the governor to whatever his to-do list consists of. Again, you feel uneasy at what he could be planning, but really, it's none of your business as long as you and Sakusa could get this intricate mission off both of your shoulders. 

The governor's mansion is marvelous and grand, harrassing you with the gleams of luxury and bright lights as the two of you walk down the hall, tastefully decorated with both modern furnishing and paintings. The rug beneath you must surely cost more than even a month's worth of your salary, and a part of you feels jealous at his immense wealth, even if most of it has been stolen from various sources.

In the main foyer stands a caramel-haired woman; she looks demure and classy. She's donned in a simple, yet elegant outfit that drapes down her narrow shoulders and slender figure, and she immediately bows when she sees the two of you.

"You must be the agents Suguru mentioned," she begins, pushing her tawny locks behind her ear. "It's a pleasure to meet the both of you. My name is Yamaka Mika, and I will be in your care today!"

You greet her as well. "Likewise, Yamaka-san. I'm (Full Name), and this is my partner, Sakusa Kiyoomi." You motion to the winter-cold man next to you, who curtly nods.

Her eyes light up. "Is that so? You two make a lovely couple. I've recently got engaged as well," she states shyly, holding up her delicate fingers; on the ring finger is a simple, white-gold ring with a substantially-sized diamond that gleams under the foyer's chandelier.

Sakusa immediately recoils, lips curling up in a slight sneer as he glances down at you. You return his stare as the thought processes in your brain. Hell _no!_

"Congratulations on your engagement," you say, trying to force the expression down. She thinks you and Sakusa are _dating_? "I mean that he is my partner in the agency, not my significant other." The word tastes like poison on your tongue, and you can hardly disguise your current dismay at the thought of becoming a lover to such an unpleasant man.

Yamaka's hand shoots up to her pink lips. "Oh, I'm sorry for misunderstanding! Forgive me, but I thought the two of you suited each other quite nicely. In any case, where shall we go first? Perhaps Ginza? I'd love to go shopping for a bit!"

Suit... each other?

Frankly, you'd rather be caught dead than in a partnership with Sakusa- not that he'd know the first thing about treating his lover properly in a romantic relationship. Sure, he's easy on the eyes, especially when he's out in casual clothing, and knowing that you match well with him in the physical sense is a compliment in itself. On the other hand, you can't really care about what you look like next to him if all he radiates is an aura of abhorrence. You can't think of any other reason as to why anyone would even consider dating him, besides his looks that are immediately spoiled by his sour expressions and personality.

His lips melt into a straight line. "Ginza is fine," he confirms, but you know he's lying straight through his teeth since Ginza is notorious for having hoards upon hoards of people. 

Like you, he's a slave to Daisho's requests, and if he were to reject Yamaka's suggestions, you know there would be hell to pay.

"Perfect!" she clasps her hands together as a radiant smile overtakes her lips. "I'll let the driver know, and he should have us there in no time! He should be out in the front if you'll follow me!"

You follow her to the front of the mansion, where a sleek black car sits in front of the mansion's fountain. Wow. This guy has to be in a whole different tax bracket- well, if he isn't secretly evading his taxes like your files had said. Almost immediately, she's ushered into the backseat with you as Sakusa takes the passenger seat.

Yamaka is a relatively chatty woman. As the car leaves the outskirts of Tokyo towards the shopping district, she engages you in a conversation about your background. For a few brief moments, it just feels like girl talk between two friends, but it's a little different, considering you've never been driven around by a private driver like this. The drive to Ginza is supposed to take quite some time since Daisho's mansion is located in a secluded area away from the majority of the city's population.

Upon arrival in the shopping district, she is quick to drag you out the car while Sakusa glumly follows you two. The first stop is at a chocolatier, where the rich aroma of cacao beans and sugar delve into your heart. You can already tell it's a wildly expensive store just from the appearance of its packaging and soft Paganini playing in the background of the store.

"Oh... maybe I shouldn't buy too much," she says, though the longing look in her eyes tells you a different story. "Suguru is always spoiling me too much..."

"He gave us a hefty budget," Sakusa mentions when she samples a truffle with sixty-eight percent cacao.

She frowns. "Did he now...? Jeez, I always tell him not to do this sort of thing," she huffs, but she reaches for another sample.

You harshly elbow Sakusa's side. "I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry about it," you say reassuringly as you gently urge her towards the counter. "If you like it, why not bring them back for you to share with him then? That way, you're spending money for the two of you instead of just yourself."

"That's a wonderful idea!" she beams at you before turning to the attendant to pick out a few sweets for her and her beloved.

As she selects her chocolates, you glare at Sakusa, who takes a few steps away from you. "Don't touch me like that again," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "It's already enough being stuck in this suffocating city; I don't need you making this any worse for me."

You sigh, picking up a sample and popping the delicious treat into your mouth. "You should really learn to relax sometimes," you say when you finish chewing.

"We're here on a mission. You do realize there may be eyes on Yamaka-san even now, right?" 

Frowning, you say nothing. He's right, honestly. Even now, you've seen suspicious looking men from the corners of your eyes as soon as the three of you stepped out of the car. It's unsettling to say the least, but you know you can't be too blatant with Yamaka right next to you. 

"How about you keep an eye on them while I keep her occupied?" you suggest, eyes darting out the shop's window to see if you can spot any men. "As per the governor's requests."

Sakusa only sighs but relents. "Fine. I'll let you know if I see them again. They're wearing white, so if you see anything, make sure to tell me."

Thankfully, no one fitting the description is inside or out of the shop, but your partner refuses to let his guard down, even when a worker continuously asks him if he's alright. Soon enough, other female workers are checking up on him, but you suppose most of it has to do with them wanting to speak to the handsome man. You have to stifle your laughter at this.

"You look constipated," you snicker, bringing your hand up to your lips to hide your smile.

"Shut up."

As soon as Yamaka finishes purchasing the chocolates with the money from the envelope, the joy on her face is hard to ignore. "I know he'll love these! Between the three of us, he has a sweet-tooth!" she chirps happily, grabbing onto your hand. "Say, why don't we catch lunch at the cafe over there? I heard they're serving Korean-style Dalgona coffee, and I've had some of their sandwiches before! They're delicious!"

She's right.

"Wow, this really is good!" you comment, looking down at the perfectly toasted ciabatta bread encompassing some of your favorite ingredients.

Yamaka grins, setting down her frothy coffee. "I told you! Okay, next, how about we..."

The afternoon passes by in a blink of an eye.

Yamaka is a friendly lady; she's quick to recommend snacks or breaks so the three of you can spend time without growing too weary. Like most young women your age, she has plenty of stories to tell, and most of them involve the governor himself. It's almost strange to hear things like how he had played volleyball in high school or that he's afraid of tarantulas; you hadn't expected to sympathize with your sneaky client like that.

Today... is actually really fun, even if you've spotted a few men in white during your time in Ginza. It's a fact that neither you nor Sakusa are quick to dismiss; in fact, you can see him send a few texts to both Shimizu and Daisho. Almost immediately, Daisho requests the three of you to come back before five in the evening, and a happily exhausted Yamaka is quick to agree with your suggestions of returning back to the mansion after visiting the Louis Vuitton store.

Perhaps you're imagining it, but you can even see the ghosts of smiles on Sakusa's face as the three of you traverse the streets of Ginza. So, he knows how to have fun even in the presence of large crowd after all? You aren't quite used to seeing him without his mask on, but the sight of his model-like features make your cheeks grow warm in the cool, winter air.

Yamaka's driver arrives at four on the dot since traffic is starting to pile up, ensuring a longer drive back home. After some consultation with your partner, you all agree to let Yamaka head back to the mansion with her driver as the two of you discuss the implications of the death threats and these suspicious men in white.

"Thank you for the day out," she says sweetly, grinning. "I feel a little better now, really!"

With a surprisingly cheerful goodbye, both you and Sakusa send her off back to the mansion. At this hour, teenagers are scrambling to get back home before getting scolded, mothers are frantically purchasing take-out dinners from nearby restaurants for their family tonight, and business men are scurrying to make their way to the Ginza station. Among the chaos, Sakusa seems relatively bothered.

"Maybe you're secretly a peoples-person?" you joke, but he rolls his eyes and pulls out his iconic dust mask.

"Unlikely," retorts the raven-haired secret agent.

You laugh a little at this before looking back at the station. "We should probably get back to the agency. I bet Shimizu is expecting a report for today. Are you any good with subways?"

"The governor said we could keep the leftover money in the envelope right?"

You glance at him, confused. "Uh, yeah..." you scratch your head. What is he getting at?

Sakusa refuses to meet your eyes. "There's still a ten-thousand yen note in here," he says, voice steady. "We should make use of it. It's almost dinnertime, and there are some nice and clean restaurants around here..."

Is he suggesting what you think he is? Judging by the strained expression in his eyes and his refusal to make eye contact with you, you can only suspect that he's actually inviting you out to dinner. A free dinner, nonetheless! You'll have to thank the governor for his generosity tomorrow.

"Eat the rich, right?" you smile.

He rolls his eyes but you can see the beginnings of a smile at the corners of his own lips.

The ice has started to melt- even if just a bit.


	5. ABATTOIR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the two of you are informed of your next task, and later that night, sakusa pays you a short but meaningful visit.
> 
> also: sakusa def used to model/can speak a foreign language, and you CANNOT convince me otherwise im sorry it is Simp Law

How utterly cliché.

The cold morning had started off just as how it usually did; after a simple visit to Kiyoko, you unsurprisingly found yourself back in the governor's luxurious mansion once again as the wintery air nipped at your fingers. Sakusa had shown up exactly three minutes late, and you had never felt so relieved to see the stony-faced man. You could hardly stand being under Daisho's relentless and curious gaze just by yourself, and it had given you a piece of mind when the secret agent had finally arrived.

As soon as the governor had started speaking, the relief coursing through your veins had disappeared like the fleeting puff of a cigarette. Instead, hesitance fills the voids of your expression as you internally repeat what he just said. You'd be... attending an event

"Together?" you echo his words.

Had you heard that correctly? He wanted the two of you to accompany him to some kind party?

"The two of you _are_ working with each other, no?" checks the governor, briefly looking at you. "Is there a problem? It's a very simple task for you, and it may even be entertaining. Just a mere soirée."

"It's not a problem at all, sir," you quickly clarify, not daring to break eye contact with his serpentine gaze. "In most cases, I am usually asked to stay outside the premises, so it's a little unusual to be asked to attend the function..."

Daisho pats down the faint wrinkles of his suit, the crinkles smoothing out like freshly fallen snow. "I would prefer to have you stay undercover, but I feel unsafe going without protection. You'll essentially serve as my bodyguards, under the guise of some family friends visiting from out of the country," he explains nonchalantly. "The host of the party is an old friend of mine, but we should stay vigilant; he is one of the potential suspects from the list. Am I correct in assuming that the two of you have memorized that list?"

The smarter, more sensible part in you knows not to ask why his actual bodyguards aren't serving him, but realistically, it's a wiser decision to put you and Sakusa on the front-lines. In case if this friend of the governor's _is_ the suspect, you suppose it'd be foolish to send out his best men in case of something more sinister- something only you and Sakusa would be able to handle. At the same time, it confuses you; why send the both of you out? It would only serve to raise some eyebrows if two strangers suddenly start showing up in the governor's presence.

Then you realize it must be a test of some sorts to see if the two of you are worthy. It would assess both of your espionage capabilities and test the legitimacy of Hyuukai to examine whether this agency is really worth his money. It's a tactic that makes you want to applaud the man, even if this party isn't the sort of function you'd like to attend.

"We have," you confirm, though you glance over to a tired-looking Sakusa and desperately hope he has actually memorized the list like you had just a few nights ago.

"Very well," Daisho says, pleased. "The two of us used to play volleyball together in high school- my kouhai, actually. His name is Kuguru Naoyasu, and he's been suspected because he's a current mayor for a ward in Tokyo. Supposedly, there have been rumors of him wanting the governor's position, so my subordinates have placed him onto the list."

"You suspect someone you're so close to?" Sakusa asks, his voice a deep rumble like that of a thunderstorm.

The governor shrugs, the phantom of a smirk lurking on his lips. "These days, you can't be too sure. I'd love for you to clear his name, so I'm expecting the two of you to accompany me and decide if he's a valid suspect or not."

"And you mentioned this would be taking place on Saturday?"

"Correct. Dress appropriately; he and his husband have quite the refined taste. In addition, Mika has procured a document of your backstories to as to not arise suspicion. She's waiting in the other room. For now, study whatever she gives you until this weekend, and do what you must to prove or disprove Kuguru's innocence." He motions to the door as he offers a small smile.

Immediately, the guards open up the door for you, and both you and Sakusa are promptly ushered towards a room right next to Daisho's personal office. When the door creaks open, the familiar face of Yamaka Mika immediately floods your vision like a summer downpour; abrupt and almost overwhelming. On her face is a bright, blinding smile as she enthusiastically urges the two of you to sit down onto the plush, velvety chairs in front of her mahogany desk.

"Oh! I was wondering when you'd be coming along! Have you been well since our outing?" she asks curiously, the corners of her eyes lifting up daintily.

"Well enough," you admit, smiling back. "And you?"

"Just the same as usual, I'll have to say," she chirps, carefully placing two manila folders in front of her before leaning in closer to both of you. "I've heard from my fiancé that you've spotted some men in white the other day. I'm glad the two of you were with me! I'm going to stay inside for the next few days, but please take care of him if they show up to the party this weekend."

"I don't think they'll be there." Sakusa is quick to reassure her. "We haven't been given any instructions regarding them, but I'm sure our colleagues will be quick to discern their purpose."

Back at the agency, you've been told that a few interns who haven't quite become a full fledged secret agent have offered to look into these suspicious men, and you had been quick to accept their help. It's only a matter of time before the agency finds out just what these men have been doing and why they've been tracing Yamaka that day. For now, there's unfortunately nothing to do besides patiently wait for these critical reports and attend to Daisho's other requests.

The young woman visibly relaxes, as if she has magically been graced with an instant massage. "I'm glad to hear it... Oh! Let me explain your backgrounds for the party. (Name)-san, you'll be known as Sunakawa Hani and Suguru's family friend. You normally live in Nice, France, but you've come back to spend time with family in Edogawa."

You frown. "I don't know how to speak French."

"I do."

You gawk at your partner. "You speak French?"

Sakusa's cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and it's a sight you had once thought you'd never see. "Just enough to get by. I flew over a few times to model," he admits uncertainly. "I stopped once I got accepted into Hyuukai."

"...Ah."

Mika mumbles something under her breath and rewrites something on the documents with a fountain pen. "Okay. Let's switch this around. Sakusa-san, you'll serve as the family friend. You have a bakery just by the coast and next to a hotel. Oh! I forgot to mention, but (Name)-san, you'll be his wife who is currently a photographer. There are some other details about your relationship, but I'll leave it you to study til the weekend. I'll be sure to inform Daisho of the changes!"

You like Yamaka, you really do, but as soon as the words evaporate from her lips, the sensation of dismay and trepidation settles in the base of your stomach almost immediately. Sakusa's... His _wife?_ Your hearing is muffled, like you've stuck your head underwater, and you can barely make out Sakusa's own words. Any thoughts of him as a Japanese-French model are yanked from your brain, and you're left with a twinge of annoyance that refuses to stop biting you.

Your relationship with him has softened up just the slightest amount, but that doesn't mean you'd ever want to marry him. He'd be the worst husband! Neglectful, cold, and he'd probably chastise you for any speck of dirt on the floor. Just thinking about a domestic life with the snarky man is nauseating, and you're already shuddering at the idea. No matter how handsome he is, you don't think you could ever survive a strenuous marriage with someone like him.

A sneaky glance at him tells you that he's likely thinking the exact same thing. Gone is the stoic expression normally painted over his face; in place of his usual expression, there's a slight grimace tugging at his pale skin, like he's dreading the idea of falsifying a marriage with you. While this would normally upset you, you understand his reaction- it's practically the same as yours, after all.

"Oh, don't worry about things like that!" Yamaka exclaims, recognizing the displeased frowns on your faces. "It's only for show; don't forget what you're really there for!" she reminds you, handing you each a marked up folder.

You and Sakusa finally exchange looks, and for the first time, the two of you have the exact same thoughts.

How could you _not_ worry?

Later that night, you found yourself back in the agency's building. After a quick hello to Daichi and Sugawara, who is still peacefully lying in that sterile, hospital room, your feet take you underground, to the training grounds far away from society. Disappointment creeps into your veins when Daichi had told you that Sugawara still showed no signs of waking up, but you force a smile on your face for their sake. It comes to you as no surprise; as long as Sugawara is still doing fine and recovering, you couldn't choose to be picky. For now, you'd have to settle for silently supporting your friend while obliging to the mission that had almost taken his life.

Lately, it feels as though the gods are picking on you. With the stress and pressure of the mission, the question of when Sugawara would finally awaken, and the challenge of having troublesome Sakusa as your partner, it's no wonder you find yourself aiming your agency gun at the training targets.

There's nothing quite like the firing of a gun; the sound of the bullets blasting from the revolver is obscenely loud. The earmuffs protecting your eardrums still allow the shrill cry of the weapon to pierce through to your cochlea. Even despite the ringing and vibrations in the underground facility, the satisfaction of reaching your targets is enough to settle the raging frustration in your blood. You need something- anything to get your mind off your overwhelming thoughts. You feel trapped.

Your aim has gotten worse in the past few weeks.

First, you miss your target completely. Then you barely graze the target's elbow. How the hell did you manage to pass your test with this atrocious aim? A deep breath in, readjustment of your fingers, a different stance, and you finally hit bulls-eye. 

"Your aim is horrible. You call yourself an agent when you can barely shoot a gun?" 

You can hardly make out the poison words through your earmuffs, and in a fit of annoyance, you tug them off your ears. With a quick, hurried glance behind you, you vaguely recognize the figure walking towards you. It's Sakusa, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from frowning so deeply. He's wearing that signature surgical mask of his, and you hate to admit how good he looks despite it covering half of his face.

"Can it, will you?" you retort, reloading the gun with new practice bullets. "Didn't you see me make that bulls-eye just now?"

"I also saw you completely miss the target around nine times," he states simply, eyeing the grip you have on your gun.

The heat and fire of shame fill you like you're a bucket of gasoline, and he had just torched you. He had seen your failures? Glumly, you lower your arms and scowl at the ground, wishing he'd disappear. It's not like you had needed to use your gun for every mission, so of _course_ you'd grow just a little rusty after a few weeks without practice. For crying out loud, your previous two missions had been so mundane that you hadn't even thought about bringing your gun!

"And you can do so much better?" you grumble, raising your gun back up.

"Of course I can."

A surge of irritation is immediate that you nearly drop your weapon onto the cold, hard concrete of the ground. His arrogance is nothing short of hubris, and you're suddenly overcome with the urge to want to see him fail. Pursing your lips, you turn to him to say something snappy, but he stands behind you, tugging at your fingers with his own.

"What are you-?"

Sakusa adjusts your grip on the hand gun. "Your stance is all wrong," he says. "Your thumbs need to be _here_ , and you need to lower your shoulders. Tensing up like that will do you no good."

The clouds of his breath are visible in the cold air of the underground, and you can see them from the corners of your eyes as his hands trace up to your shoulders in an attempt to lower them. His whispers and suggestions tickle your earlobes, and you're acutely aware of the body heat radiating through your chunky sweater. From behind you, he's even taller than you had thought, and your own breath catches in the middle of your throat as he gently corrects the positioning of your elbows. As you slowly blink, like your life is in slow-motion, you catch the sight of his bare fingers, untainted by the usual presence of his gloves.

Is he really okay with this? Only a week ago, hadn't he looked down at you like you had been some kind of alley cat?

He continues to fine-tune your posture, nudging at the small of your back to straighten your spine. Every graze of his fingers feels like spearmint despite the clear warmth of his thermodynamic equilibrium. It's electrifying, cooling, and you feel wide awake as his fingertips lift your jaw. He takes a moment to nudge your feet just a few millimetres apart then he takes a step away from you to observe his calibration of your body before properly placing the earmuffs back on.

Not daring to move, your eyes flicker to Sakusa, who nods shortly. Turning your gaze back to the target, you swallow harshly and lower your index finger onto the trigger, barely recoiling when the bullet flies towards your goal.

Bulls-eye.

Unblinking, he turns back to you as you pull the earmuffs off again. "This mission won't be like the others. If you want to be prepared, you should keep up with your practice. You never know if we'll need to use these," he says matter-of-factly.

"I know." You're almost too shocked to respond, and it takes everything you have to force those two words out.

"Then prove it," he counters, taking steps back towards the elevator to the main building.

And just like that, he leaves you alone in the training room, the promise of winter lingering where he had just stood. Your heart is racing, and there's a dryness in your throat that won't disappear no matter how many times you swallow your saliva.

You blame the reddening of your cheeks as a result of the frigid, underground air.


	6. COGNAC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh
> 
> (jk this is sakusa lmaoooo)

_Are you almost done? We need to be at the mansion in an hour._

Instead of typing a proper response to Sakusa's impatient text, you just begrudgingly roll your eyes and send him your address. If it's that urgent, he can just come and pick you up. Does he really expect you to finish getting ready so quickly? His response is almost immediate, but you don't even bother checking the text. As you halfheartedly skim the documents about your forged background, you swipe a tube of buttery, cinnabar red lipstick on your recently moisturized lips, tapping away the excess with your ring finger for a more luxurious look.

Only when your phone buzzes again do you check your phone.

 _Fine,_ says the first text.

_Be ready in ten minutes._

You resist the urge to bite away your lipstick in aggravation, choosing to cap the Charlotte Tilbury rouge and placing it in your handbag. You make sure to place it above your other belongings, carefully tucking a small handgun beneath everything else. There'd likely be no reason to use weaponry tonight, but you know Sakusa would scold you for not being prepared for the worst. If there's one thing in life you hate more than having to see his dumb, handsome face, it's being rushed. Grumbling, you fix the dainty straps of your navy dress, which is so dark that it's nearly black. The sleek material is woven so perfectly that it provides a textural contrast to your velvety skin, which has been exquisitely lotioned and powdered. It falls just above your knees with an elegant slit to your right thigh, giving you just enough mobility in case if the night calls for such measures.

 _Bet Sakusa could never fight in heels_ , you think as you strap on a pair of gleaming, nude heels.

Before you head to your living room, you apply a final tap to the band of your false eyelashes that are so natural and wispy that you already anticipate how many other guests would ask you whether if your lashes are real or not. After a final dusting of pearly, luminous highlighter to your collarbones and shoulders, your doorbell abruptly rings twice, indicating your partner's arrival.

Gathering the last of your things and your phone, you stride over to the door, wondering what he has worn tonight. When you open the door, it takes everything in you to not gawk at the strikingly handsome man.

Tall and dangerous, Sakusa is clad in a slim-fitting, midnight-black blazer and white dress shirt, unbuttoned just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his Adam's apple. With skin so soft and milky like his, you have to resist the urge to brush your fingers across his throat. Gone is the usual mask on his face; it's no wonder he used to model when he's that devilishly good-looking.

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep your expression in check as he gives you a brief once-over, you step outside in the cold, biting air that is so quintessentially mid-January weather. As you lock the door, you're vaguely aware of the burn of his gaze on your back. If he has any opinions about your appearance, he doesn't express them, instead choosing to walk you to a sleek, black vehicle sitting on the road.

It looks new, but you recognize it as an older model since your friends had been looking at purchasing one as well. Despite the age of the model, you have to hand it to him for taking such good care of his vehicle. The paint is glistening underneath the soft glow of the streetlight, and you can't help but feel excited to step inside.

"I didn't know you drove, Sakusa-san," you say, genuinely surprised. Parking in Tokyo could get frustrating, and you have yet to purchase a car for yourself in fear of getting ruthlessly ticketed.

"I prefer it over taking public transport. It's much cleaner this way," he responds, pressing a button on his keys to unlock the car doors. "Isn't it better for you? It's too cold to not wear a jacket on the way to Daisho-san's home."

"I didn't want to ruin my outfit with a coat," you admit, slipping onto the pale leather of the passenger seat. "If you're driving, it just makes things easier for me. I was just going to suck it up and deal with it."

"That's exactly how you catch a cold." He gives you a distasteful look.

You return his gaze coolly. "Don't worry- I'll be sure to sneeze on you once I fall sick."

He's muttering something under his breath, but you can't tell what it is. As he starts the ignition, you take the time to sneakily glance over at him. His sharp side-profile is absolutely unreal, and you can't help but be thoroughly taken aback about his beauty. If you aren't careful, he could easily be prettier than you.

As he starts to drive, a single hand on the steering wheel and another loosely holding the gearshift, you can hear the soft lull of Debussy in the background. Classical suits him, you note. The car is pristine; there's not a single wrapper or receipt in the cup holders or floors. It smells like mint, and you catch a glimpse of an air freshener dangling on the air vent. This car practically screams his personality, and you glance out the tinted windows to keep your gaze away from him.

Stupid Sakusa looking so stupidly good with his stupid outfit and stupid hair.

You almost can't resist; with another sly glance, you notice his Chantilly-colored fingers drumming on the steering wheel. The sight of them is jarring, and you suddenly remember how he had helped you with your shooting stance earlier in the week. Even the mere memory of the event sends tingles down your spine, and you can still feel his fingertips ghosting along your shoulders, back, and hands. There's that frighteningly coaxing sensation of icy mint dragging across your skin, like a spirit encircling your very soul.

You want to scream or rip out chunks of your perfectly curled hair, but a deep breath is all it takes for you to settle the rampant surging of blood in you. The rest of the drive to the governor's mansion is deafeningly silent and stiff, and you count down the seconds it takes to get to Daisho's abode.

Finally, after twenty excruciating minutes of sitting in the same car, you manage to weasel your way out the car and in front of the gloriously exuberant fountain of the governor's front yard. You grimace when you realize the actual party is still a few minutes away from his mansion, and you tell Sakusa to hurry up with locking his car.

Before he can snap out a response, the both of you are hurriedly ushered into another car with Daisho and Yamaka by one of the butlers. As Daisho sits in the passenger seat, you're squished in the middle right between a chatty Yamaka and a brooding Sakusa. You almost feel sorry for the poor driver.

"Oh! That was quick!" Yamaka exclaims as she holds onto your elbow. "You two are early!"

She's wearing a stunning golden dress that brings out the glimmer of her eyes, and her hair is pulled into a delicate up-do that frames her cheekbones. You notice the faint smudge of her pink lipstick, and you can sort of guess what had been going on before you and Sakusa arrived.

"Actually, your timing is impeccable," quips Daisho as he wipes away the remnants of his lover's lipstick from his cheeks. "The party started thirty minutes ago, so I made sure you'd come here around this time in order to be fashionably late."

"Again? You're as dramatic as ever," sighs Yamaka before she turns to you animatedly.

Now incredibly close to him, when you catch a soft, masculine fragrance, your heart nearly stops. The familiar and intoxicating scent of Sakusa's Bleu de Chanel cologne wafting from his collarbones make you feel slightly dizzy, and you have to ask Yamaka to repeat her question about your false eyelashes.

God, this is going to be a long ride.

You might have found Sakusa's strained way of speaking and responding to Daisho's endless questions funny, had it not been for the burn of his thigh against your bare skin.

You're ever so grateful for Yamaka when the car finally arrives at another luxurious home. Almost immediately, she whisks you to your feet and away from the inferno of Sakusa's Molotov touch. Floor lights brighten every step from the car to the white marble of the stairs, and you can hear the roar of laughter and violins even several meters away from the entrance. As your golden girl friend latches onto her fiance, you feel a tug on your elbow.

Looking up from your wispy lashes, you make eye contact with a certain winter devil. Just like that, your elbow is linked with Sakusa's, and you'd say something snide if it isn't for the distressed expression on his face, clearly displeased at having to actually touch you-

As if he hadn't touched you with his bare hands earlier this week.

"Follow my lead," he mutters in your ear, still scowling. "Remember what we're here for."

"Maybe you should take some acting classes?" you suggest, glancing at the frown on his face that somehow still suits him.

"Be good, will you?" he sighs begrudgingly, guiding you up the stairs as he forces a pleasant smile onto his face.

Even if it's staged, even if it hardly reaches his eyes, the sight of his upturned lips evokes one onto your own lips. "You look dashing when you smile, my dear husband," you coo, trying to calm down the jumping of your heart as you tease him.

Immediately, the smile on his face falters as you grasp his hands, and a wicked, sly thought crosses your mind. Maybe you'd take the time to play with him for tonight; if he's going to be this insufferable, you want some form of entertainment for yourself.

"Oh, calm down, love," you whisper, emphasizing your pet name for him. "You can wash your hands when this is all done."

He looks positively repulsed, lips curling back at your remark. "...I'll need a shower after this."

Oh, this is going to be _fun_.

Before the two of you enter the room of intoxication and laughter, a slender man bumps into you. "My apologies," he says quickly before heading towards a group of chattering ladies.

This doesn't go unnoticed by your oh-so-faithful partner. "You know him?" he asks, eyes still tracing the footsteps of the man. "He looked familiar."

"Never seen him in my life," you say honestly, tugging him towards the governor. "Come on."

The air is rich with moisture and heat, indicating just how many people are dancing and waltzing in this grand ballroom. A tall, shimmering ice statue stands near the entrance, and you wonder how it hasn't melted from the accumulation of body heat in the room. Tasteful and moving, an intricate live orchestra plays in the corner of the room, promising entertainment to the couples. You can practically taste all the perfume oils lingering in the air, and there's not a single stray hair on any of the other guests. It's as if stepping into this room has granted a veil or filter of beauty on everyone here.

Sakusa, of course, isn't exempt to this. Under the warm lighting of crystal chandeliers, he looks twice as handsome as he did standing in front of your door. It's almost unfair, and you're snapped out of your thoughts when he brings you closer to your client.

As your client speaks with a tawny-haired man, Yamaka waves the both of you over. "Ah, here are they now! The Sunakawas have been family friends with my parents for years now. Akito and I were practically brothers when we were younger before his family moved to Nice," Daisho says easily, not even batting an eye as he raises a flute of bubbling champagne.

" _Were_ brothers?" Sakusa, or 'Akito,' remarks, raising an eyebrow and simpering. "You say that, but my mother still calls me, saying we're exactly how we were when we were seven."

His laugh boisterous and merry, Daisho plays along, lightly hitting Sakusa's back in an act of fondness and brotherly love. "Very true," he concedes before taking a small step back. "Akito, Hani, this is an old friend of mine. We used to play volleyball together back in high school."

The emerald-eyed man gives the two of you a warm smile as he takes turns in shaking your hands. "The pleasure's mine. Kuguri Naoyasu. My husband, Kazuma, is with other guests, but please enjoy yourselves tonight."

"Sunakawa Akito," Sakusa introduces himself and returning a firm handshake. "This is my dear wife, Hani."

"It's nice to meet you! You have a remarkable home," you compliment, shaking Kuguri's hand. "And the flowers in the foyer? You have excellent taste," you praise, squeezing Sakusa's hand. "Isn't that right, dear? I don't think we have those flower breeds back at home."

You can see his jaw clench and feel his fingers fidget, and every movement brings you satisfaction. "We don't, but if you love them that much, I'll be sure to order some when we go back home," he promises, voice hoarse with the slightest hint of aggravation only you can detect.

Wanting more of a reaction, you pull him closer and drag your thumb along his jaw. "You'd do that? I'm so lucky to have you, Aki," you coo, and you can see both Daisho and Yamaka trying to stifle their laughter from the corners of your eyes.

His reaction is instant, and he disguises swatting your hand away by grasping it in his other hand. "As am I, my dear. Why don't you ask Kuguri-san more about the flowers? I'd better go introduce myself to his husband, and you should join us when you finish up."

There's no missing the irritation glinting in his eyes, and you grin, brimming with satisfaction.

1-0, Hani vs Akito. 

"I'd like that very much!" you exclaim, releasing his hands as you turn to Kuguri. "Kuguri-san, where do you get your flowers from? They look like they're freshly picked!" as you ask the politician thing, you don't miss the way Sakusa's face falls in utter relief.

Asshole. You aren't that disgusting...!

"They are," Kuguri boasts, leading you towards the arrangement of pale flowers sitting on top of a grand and homely stand. "The butler picked them this morning from the greenhouse. I suppose you don't see many morning glories in France?"

" _Non, jamais_!" you reply, praying to every deity you can think of so Kuguri won't ask you to speak any French since your French is absolutely abysmal, even despite the one class you had taken during college. "I used to live in Japan, but even during my time in Hokkaido, I haven't seen many morning glories."

Kuguri looks interested. "Sunakawa-san, you're from Hokkaido? So is my mother, actually. Do you ever miss living there? I'm sure it must be quite different living in Nice."

"Oh, very different! My husband and I live quite a peaceful and delightful life in France, but the few things I miss the most is my family and the food," you lie easily, sniffing the morning glories. "Daisho said the two of you used to play volleyball together? The two of you must have been close."

Here it comes. You need any kind of information about his background with the governor. You doubt he'd say anything that would raise any eyebrows, but even the slightest slip up of words would be recorded by the tiny device wrapped around your thigh, hidden by your dress. Once you take this data back to the agency, you, Sakusa, and the other interns could cipher anything you've collected tonight.

"Ah, he was a senpai of mine," Kuguri responds. "And still is, actually. He helped me to get my mayor position, and I owe him alot."

"He did mention something along those lines!" you snap your fingers in realization. "Mayor! How outstanding! Do you ever think you'd run for a different position in the government? Perhaps governor of a different prefecture?" you press.

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Heavens, no. My publicist suggested I actually run in this spring's election, but it's too much for me. Even being mayor of a ward keeps me busy enough, and I need to keep my schedule open this coming spring," he admits, looking slightly bashful before leaning towards you.

"Is that so?" you hum, leaning in as well. "Why is that?"

"Between the two of us... My husband and I have been thinking about adopting a young girl we've been meeting at the local orphanage," he says shyly, looking pleased. "And kids can be quite the handful, I've been told."

This is just a job.

Your surname isn't Sunakawa, and you sure as hell aren't married to the brooding, curly-haired man in the center of the room. You're a single, secret agent living in the heart of Tokyo, and you can barely speak a lick of French.

And yet when the words reach your ears, a euphoric, pleasant feeling blossoms in your chest just like how a morning glory would bloom. "Oh, congratulations, Kuguri-san! The two of you must be excited!" you say genuinely, and this is the first truthful statement you've made all evening.

"Very excited," he confirms with a small smile. "Come, you should meet my husband."

Eventually, the two of you reach the other side of the vast room, and a glass of white wine makes its way into your left hand. You aren't quite sure how it had gotten there, but you'll drink every last sip if it means getting through the rest of this night. Standing in front of you is Sakusa, who speaks animatedly with Kuguri's husband. It's an unusual sight to see, and you'll almost impressed with how well of a speaker Sakusa is, despite his initial and cold appearance. You want to praise him for not immediately pulling out his travel-sized hand sanitizer that you know he always carries around.

"There you are," Sakusa says slowly, eyeing the wine in your hands before taking it from you. "Now, do you really think you should be drinking this?"

You don't respond. Why shouldn't you be drinking alcohol? You aren't particularly that lightweight. Kuguri had poured it for you, so it can't be spiked. Unless...

Both the Kuguri men eye you curiously, and you're aware of the gleaming look in Sakusa's eyes. It fills you with dread. No. He can't be planning to say something like that, right? It would certainly help solidify your case as a married couple, but there's no real reason to butter up the crowd to this extent-

"Hani-san," Kuguri says slowly as he exchanges a glance with his husband. "Are the two of you expecting?"

"She is," confirms Sakusa, pleased.

The moment you finally get out of this party, you're going to kill Sakusa. With a knife. Or a gun. Or both. Then you'll burn his corpse as you get the final laugh.

For the time being, you smile warmly at the two in front of you, catching your _dear husband_ in a death grip. "It was supposed to be a secret, but Akito has always been bad at keeping them," you laugh easily.

"Congratulations," Kazuma cries before taking your free hand in his. "My name is Kuguri Kazuma. When are you expecting?"

"The doctors have said July or August," Sakusa says coolly, squeezing your hand a few times and catching your attention. Had he found something? "How are you feeling, Hani?"

He squeezes your hand again, and you'd be an idiot to miss his signals. "A little warm," you admit, squeezing his hand back. "Actually, is there anywhere for me to sit? My feet have been swelling up during my pregnancy term, and the heels aren't helping my case tonight," you joke.

Kazuma's response is immediate. "Of course! Just out this door is a hallway, and there should be a sofa or two for you to rest in! Feel free to join us again when you're ready," he reassures you, and you feel awful for lying to such a pleasant couple like them.

"We'll be back in the blink of an eye," Sakusa promises, guiding you out the ballroom.

He practically drags you out of the room of captious perfumes, buzzing conversations, and the singing of crystal glasses, but you feel annoyed to have been pulled out of the center of it all. When the two of you can no longer hear the rustling of dresses and the cries of violins, he sits you down, pulling out an old-fashioned flip phone. A burner phone for critical situations. 

"What the hell was that?" you finally hiss when the two of you are confirmed to be alone. "Pregnant? Is that the best excuse you could come up with?"

"Shut up," he barks, shoving the burner phone in your face. "You see this?"

You study the blurry and low quality photo, like it's been taken by a five year old child. " _Wonderful!_ It's that man from earlier," you say sarcastically. "What about him?"

"I knew I recognized his face," Sakusa mutters, pulling you up to your feet so quickly that you nearly topple over. "I think he's one of the men in white- the ones who were trailing Yamaka-san that day."

You pale. "Where did they go?"

"Follow me."


	7. WHELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you didn't know sakusa was capable of being jealous, but you find yourself surprised at the end of the chapter

Swallowed up by darkness, the night air feels like a weighted blanket, dragging you down to the ground as you and your agency partner lurk in the hidden shadows of the mansion's hedges. Desperate to hear anything from the two men leisurely chatting near the driver's side of the flashy car only a few meters away from you, you crawl on your knees and peek past the large shrubbery, ignoring the way the icy, damp grass sends shivers up your thighs. Hopefully some kind of code that you could cipher with the interns- Yamaguchi has a knack for decoding messages or finding underlying themes in conversations.

"Get back over here," hisses Sakusa, tugging on the right strap of your dress to pull you closer. "They'll see you."

"I can't hear what they're saying," you whisper back to him, swatting away his hand with your clammy palms, to which he makes a sound of disgust. "I need to get closer."

Grimacing, he sends you a glare that could melt all the ice near your hands and knees. "Wait," he mumbles, digging around in the crevices of his blazer and slipping something onto your hand. "You still have that recorder on you, right?"

Peering at the tiny, blinking device resting in the center of your palm, you nod slowly. "Yeah. It's strapped onto my thigh."

"That's disgusting."

"No, it's not. It's called being discreet and _smart_. No one's going to try to look up my dress."

He promptly ignores your remark. "If you're going to get close to the car, stick this where they can't find it. It's a tracker, and it'll send coordinates to the agency interns. If we can track every one of their locations, we might be able to find more about their motives," he emphasizes, reluctantly sending you off into the evening breeze. "Don't get caught."

Solemn, you nod, being careful of the clack of your heels as you inch towards the car. Lips dry and scarlet from the mattifying formula of your rouge coupled with the blasts of winter winds, you purse them together as you crouch by the leathery tire furthest from the men and closest to the trunk, the burn of gasoline hot and stinging to your nose.

"-don't worry, we'll get it back for them."

"Takeharu says there's too much security. We'll have to get it back another night."

"Too much security my _ass_ \- who the hell left him in charge? Next time we'll have to put Tsuchiyu on the front-lines if we wanna see progress."

Immediately, a thousand different questions burn in your mind. Who are these people these men are talking about? What are they trying to get back, and is it located in Kuguri's mansion? Or maybe they had been targeting Daishou's heavily guarded abode, which could explain their presence around the party and around Yamaka.

They stop speaking, and for a few moments, you're afraid the two men can hear the rapid, ceaseless throbbing of your heart. Not wanting to risk being seen, you hold the small device in between your fingers and gently feel around the underside of the car for a suitable home for the chip. Upon finding a secure location, you latch the device onto the car, hoping and praying they wouldn't go around the trunk.

"But did you see that Japanese-French couple earlier? The wife was _smoking_ -"

"Going after married women, huh?"

"Come on, it's not like that! If you saw her, you'd think the exact same thing."

Before your ego can get stroked any further by their unabashed praise, you feel a harsh tug on the same dress strap, signalling that it's time for you to high tail it out of here. Again, you swat away Sakusa's hand before swiftly turning in your spot to slink away back into your original hiding spot. Once the two of you are out of sight and in a relatively unsuspicious spot of Kuguri's yard, you pat away the stray blades of grass spotting your knees.

"You hear that? Looks like you might have some competition, Romeo," you drawl, dusting off your hands. "Did pretty well, didn't I?" you ask, wanting to hear praise from him. You suspect it'd feel different coming from him and not those dirty men near the car.

"Quiet," he snaps, peering over your shoulder before leading you closer towards the house, near an ivory, cement birdbath by the esteemed greenhouse Kuguri had been so proud of. "We need to make it back inside in case if they hear us. What did you hear from them?"

Knowing Sakusa is too irritable to play with, you sigh, stretching out the crick in your neck. "They were trying to get something back, but whatever they were searching for was too guarded tonight. Maybe it was something of Daisho's since I don't think this mansion had too many guards like his does. Lucky for us, but who knows what'll happen the night time they come around? We need to follow them."

"Are you crazy or are you just dumb? You can't expect to jump in blind," he spits, crossing his arms over his chest as the raging fire in his eyes swells and swells until your skin starts to tingle with the caress of uncertainty.

"So then what?" you bark, placing your hands on your hips as you send him a phoenix of your own glare. "We're supposed to just do nothing but wait? We don't have the luxury of time, _darling_."

Even in the blanket of night, you can see his lower lid twitch at your pet-name. "Daisho-san is expecting us," he points out.

"They're right there! He can wait just a few moments if it means we get track the people after his fiance!"

"You stupid wench," he seethes, grabbing onto your elbow as his steel grip digs into your ulna. "What do you expect to do when you finish following them? And if they see you?" he booms, his hands melting into your skin.

"I am more than competent enough to get by-" you peel his grasp off of you as a familiar voice interrupts the two of you.

"You know, the Sunakawas were an absolute _hit_ tonight, and the people are wondering if our Hani-san is feeling well enough to join them on the dance floor," hums Daisho, a tipsy, golden Yamaka latched onto his arm. "Who knew they were having a lover's quarrel in the backyard?"

"Daisho-san," you immediately exclaim, shoving your partner off of you. "We were just going back in!"

Sakusa scoffs at this, sending you a glare. "We found something."

Yamaka stops giggling to peer at the two of you curiously, faint traces of fear lingering in her hazel eyes. "Something?" she echoes, glancing up at her lover and squeezing his arm.

"About Kuguri-san?" guesses the governor, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern. "What have you heard?" he asks lowly, approaching the two of you as vigilance overcomes his words. "Keep it short. There may be ears out here."

"No one else is here," Sakusa confirms. "Kuguri-san seems to be innocent so far, but we've caught the presence of the men in white at the party. We've enabled a tracking device and want to report this information back to the agency for analyzing."

"We could have just followed them," you mutter under your breath, folding your arms over your chest in an attempt to rid the faint chills of winter wind nipping at your bare skin.

Daisho strokes his chin thoughtfully as Yamaka bites her lips nervously. "I see. That's quite different from what I had been expecting... I may have to make adjustments to our plans then."

"Adjustments?"

There is a strangely eerie and unpredictable glint in his narrow eyes, promising a fate so drastic that you feel a sharp sensation from the look in his eyes instead of the brisk winds gnawing at your fingertips. As a sly grin slithers to his lips, you feel your stomach drop, trembling at what he could be planning. It reminds you just how dangerous and powerful this politician is; briefly, you wonder if he'll hire you to dispose of these unwelcome men. It's not unheard of in the agency, but you have yet to act as a formal hit man just yet.

After glancing up at Sakusa for a few, sparse seconds, you swallow in preparation for the governor's next words. "Don't look so tense," Daisho says slowly. "It's nothing too major."

Your dress feels like a sheet of ice on your thighs. "Would you like us to stop going through the list of potential candidates to focus on the men to ensure Yamaka-san's safety?" you suggest.

"Oh, yes," he agrees easily. "In fact, I need to take you overseas. It seems like things are a bit more serious than I would have imagined, and an old friend of mine has experience with this sort of dilemma. I think it's time I pay him a proper visit so I can tackle this efficiently, wouldn't you agree?"

 _Of course_ you don't agree. Leaving Japan in such a critical time is almost too foolish. Not only does he have the election to worry about, but he's practically asking you to abdicate your current tasks just to accompany him and be his bodyguard while he gets advice from someone in a foreign country?!

"We have Hyuukai interns researching those men, and with this tracker, they may have enough information to solve this issue within a week," you try to remind him. "It may not warrant a trip outside of Japan."

"Perhaps not," says Daisho. "But it's clear Mika and I aren't safe here for now if these men have even showed up to Kuguri's party. Until your agency can thorough uncover the issue surrounding them, I would feel much better getting advice from this old friend."

"Well- oof," you hiss.

Sakusa easily jabs you in the side. "Of course. Please let us know the details, and we will be happy to keep the two of you safe during the trip. We will be relaying all the information to the agency tonight."

The couple in front of you two look pleased, and as you rub the sore bruise that will surely blossom onto your skin tonight, you bite the inside of your cheek. You hope to every single deity out there that the governor is making the best decision, for everyone's sake.

Even as the four of you go back into the mansion to say your goodbyes, and even as Kuguri offers you a parting quiche, you can't rid your mouth of the awful taste lingering on your tongue, latching onto your taste buds like syrupy blood.

~~~~~

"(Name)-san, get _this!"_

 _"_ What is it?" you glance up from the tinkering in your hands to see one of your interns sitting on the frigid, underground floor of the shooting arena.

"This car drove all the way to Miyagi," mutters Yamaguchi, analyzing the laptop screen as his nose scrunches up in confusion. "It stopped in a perfectly normal residential area- somewhere upper-middle class, but..."

Sakusa, now fully curious, perks up at this and lowers the practice gun in his hands. "But what?" he asks the Hyuukai intern.

Yamaguchi, one of the best workers in your unit, shakes his head. "Hm. I looked up the address, but it leads to absolutely nothing. I haven't had Muraki double-check this, but I just can't find anything yet," he exclaims, leaning back into the chair. "The car isn't even registered with the address, and no one lives there."

"Strange," you note, fiddling with the aluminum in your hands. "When Muraki gets here, have him help you. There has to be something for you to trace or cipher."

Sakusa grimaces at the precarious materials on the dimly-lit table. "What are you even doing? Do you have to do that here?"

"Making a stun grenade, duh," you snort. "What else would I be doing?"

"You're _what_?"

"Look, this is the safest place in the building. Since we're underground, it won't blind any of the other workers besides us-" you point out, and Yamaguchi squeaks at this, his eyes widening. "All my explosives are S-tier, and you never know if we're going to need it."

"There is no way this is going to get bypassed in the airport," Yamaguchi insists, picking up a part of the grenade that you immediately snatch from his grasp.

You shake your head, embedding the piece into the device. "We're taking Daisho-san's private airplane. Rich bastard," you mutter under your breath as you tweak the device in your hands. "In any case, stop your complaining, Sakusa-san. Consider yourself lucky- not everyone in this agency can make grenades even _half_ as good as I can."

"It smells, (Surname)," Sakusa hisses, crossing his arms. "Don't do it here."

"Don't shoot here," you counter. "I'm almost done."

As he mumbles something- likely an insult- under his breath, your intern continues to eye the materials laid out on the table. "Out of all hobbies, why pick explosives?" asks Yamaguchi curiously, briefly looking up from his blinking computer screen. "It couldn't have been easy to get into."

You shrug nonchalantly. "The author decided it would be nice to give me some kind of bad-ass characteristic. It might come handy in the later chapters-"

"Chapters? What's that supposed to mean?" chirps a new voice, signalling the arrival of the other intern, Muraki, a dark-haired teenager. "Ooh, shiny! New grenade, huh? You've got to teach me how to make these things."

You snort, shoving him away with your elbow. "No way. It's too dangerous for a kid like you. You've got a job to focus on, anyways. Work with Tadashi-kun and find as much information as you can before Sakusa-san and I come back from England."

Yamaguchi's eyes grow to the size of plates. "You didn't say you were going to _England_ ," he says, startled. "When you said abroad, I was assuming Korea or maybe Australia! England is on the other side of the planet!"

You grimace at the thought of just how long the plane ride would be- especially if you'd be stuck with Sakusa-san for at least a week. "I know. I'm not looking forward to it either," you reply honestly, finishing up the tiny flash grenade in your hands. 

"If you don't wanna go to England, I'll be more than happy to take your place!" Muraki grins, snatching the grenade from your hands and throwing it into the air.

Another hand that isn't yours plucks the flash grenade from the air. "Now, now, Muraki-chan," chides the familiar figure of Oikawa. "You know better than to mess with our sweet angel here. Didn't she give you a task?"

"Tooru? When did you get here?" you ask, receiving the device from him as he arches an eyebrow and silently motions to the practicing figure of Sakusa. "Do not, Tooru," you hiss under your breath.

The handsome brunet holds his hands up in defeat as chatty Muraki annoys Yamaguchi to show him the laptop. "Hey, I didn't even do anything! Just thank me later," he responds slyly. "Heard the two of you went to a party last night. Bet you looked real cute, and something tells me he thought so too."

You can't help but scowl at him despite the burning flames on your cheeks. "How do you even know about that?"

"Kiyoko-chan and I are closer than you'd expect."

"She routinely ignores you," you point out.

Irked, he leans onto the table, deciding to ignore what you had said.. "Anyways, you're welcome. If it wasn't for me, there wouldn't be that _delicious_ sexual tension in the air between the two of you, am I right?"

"You're imagining things," you harshly whisper, eyes flickering over to Sakusa, who is too enthralled with his shooting. "There's nothing between us."

"So you're telling me you're not only leaving me for England, but you also _wouldn't_ bed him? I mean, you'll be around him in a foreign country... in Europe, nonetheless," he whispers back, grinning.

"Tooru," you warn, immediately packing up all your belongings.

He flutters his eyelashes endearingly. "That's me."

"You're so dead."

"To be killed by you would be a dream come true," sighs the agent as he places his hands on your shoulders, his chin gently resting on top of your head. "You love me, don't you?"

"Unfortunately so," you groan, pushing him off as he whines.

"(Surname)."

"Sakusa-san," you exclaim, looking up.

Had he seen Oikawa practically throw himself at you? Judging by the bitter look in his eyes, you assume that he has, and you feel ashamed to let your coworker see you in such an unprofessional state. Stupid Tooru.

"Stay vigilant," Sakusa barks, tugging on his bag of belongings. "You know we're still on the job, and you don't have time to be fooling around like a school girl," he retorts, eyeing the man behind you before abruptly leaving you between the embrace of Oikawa's grasp and the cold, underground air.

The hell is his problem?

As soon as Sakusa disappears, you can feel the burn of Oikawa's cheeky grin on the back of your head. "He was totally jealous," he says over the arguing of your interns. "He's head over _heels."_

"He's not," you protest, remembering how many times the masked agent had looked at you with disgust. Realization settles in the pit of your stomach. "You did that on purpose."

"Oh, absolutely."


	8. CONTRIVANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i feel bad bc sakusa is so mean to u guys so here's an ounce of affection (that will disappear next chapter lol)

"You'll be safe, won't you?"

The pale hand resting in-between yours is nearly forgotten as the deep voice startles you from your glass-like thoughts, shattering as soon as your world spins into place. With a quick look towards the door of the sickeningly white room, your grasp on your former partner's fingers weaken until a mere thread of strength ties his fingertips to yours.

Iwaizumi stands there, resting on the door frame as his eyes dart between you and Sugawara's resting form. "Don't look so worried," he reassures you. "You know Daichi and I will keep an eye on Suga. Yamaguchi offered to help too, right-" he pauses, squinting at the hallway. "Get in here, yeah?"

Immediately, the sprig of Yamaguchi's hair pops into your vision. "Sorry," the intern apologizes, balancing the laptop on his forearm. "Perfect timing, actually. I've managed to cipher a bit of information about those men who were tailing Yamaka that day and from the party."

"You have?" you ask, perking up at this. "Tadashi-kun, you are a miracle worker! This will be helpful on the flight!"

Clearly pleased with your praise, he scuttles into the room before placing a flash drive right next to you. It's tiny and dark, and just mesmerizing enough to force your right hand from Sugawara's to grasp the minuscule device. Despite its petite form, it weighs down on your palm like a chunk of steel, heavy and dense. Hollow and firm, it fits perfectly into the inner pouch of your pea coat, where it'll sit until you have the chance to look into the information on the plane.

"Just be safe," he says firmly. "No grenades, (Name)-senpai."

A wicked grin flutters across your lips. "I don't plan on using any, but I guess we'll have to see." The last word falls into a sing-song tone.

"Don't you dare," warns Iwaizumi, walking over to the warmth of your bodies to flick at your forehead in a scolding manner. "If I here anything about you blinding anyone with your silly flash grenades, I will have your head."

"I don't doubt it," you sigh, giving your silver-haired, bedridden friend a final glance and a tender squeeze of his hand. "I'd better head out. I was supposed to meet with Tooru and Daichi a few minutes ago, but I just wanted to see him before I left."

"You worry too much," Iwaizumi snorts. "You better not keep them waiting."

"I just..." you can't help but sneak another look to the angelic face resting on the plush, blinding hospital pillow. "You never know what might happen."

Yamaguchi's eyes widen. "What? Don't say that! You and Sakusa-san will be fine," he insists, rolling your large suitcase over to the door. "Come on, we'll walk you!" the loyal intern says.

Guilt pulls you towards your former partner, but your logic is even more magnetic, luring you closer to your loyal subordinate as he and Iwaizumi guide you down the barren halls that make every hair on your arms stand with alertness. You'd do this for Suga. No matter what, you owe it to him to complete your mission cleanly since the very beginnings have been the reason as to why he lies in that sterile hospital bed. You hope it's enough for him to live vicariously through you for the time being, and it's a task you're firmly set on.

Your feet, dressed in ankle boots, fuse with the floor with every step. The strides convert into heavy, muddied steps, like you're stuck wading in a thick swamp that refuses your passage. For a split second, you can't tell if it's your nerves or guilt, but Iwaizumi gently tugs on your elbows as Yamaguchi rolls your suitcase, the slight tremble of wheels interacting with the soft, vinyl flooring giving you a sense of realism and bravery.

"You'll be fine," encourages Iwaizumi once the three of you have exited the building, cold air nipping at the tips of your ears. "Let us know once you've landed."

"Oh, _finally_! What took you so long?" Oikawa complains, leaning against a silver car. "We've been waiting for ages! I'm sure both Daichi and Sakusa-san have frozen to death by now."

Daichi snorts, stifling his laughter as he takes your suitcase from Yamaguchi's hands to place into the car trunk. "It's only been a few minutes. You know how dramatic he gets," he snickers, shutting the trunk as it bellows a satisfying, snapping sound.

"I'm used to the cold," mutters Sakusa, looking as broody and handsome as ever. "Though you should learn to be punctual at this point, (Surname)."

"At least use some form of honorifics," you snap, feeling awfully irritated this early in the morning. "I would think that-"

"Well, we're going to miss you!" chirps Oikawa as he pulls you and Iwaizumi into his strong arms. "Won't we, Iwa-chan? Can you believe our little baby is finally growing up?"

"Your little baby?" echoes Daichi, who crosses his arms. "We've been friends since forever- if anything, I'm the one who raised this tyke."

"Tyke?" you repeat, gaping at the three men. "Enough! We gotta get going. Are you going to drive us or not?"

Oikawa sighs dramatically. "Guess we'll have to."

"Shimizu will be upset if we don't get you there on time," agrees Daichi, who ushers you into the back seat. "You didn't forget to pack anything, did you?" he asks once he's seated in front of the driver's seat.

"No, Dad," you answer sarcastically.

As Oikawa slithers into the passenger seat, you try to ignore the subtle scent of Sakusa's Chanel cologne that drifts around you, clinging onto you like a ghost even though the two of you are separated by a leather seat. It makes you frustrated, and memories of his hands on your hips and the small of your back dominate your thoughts, commanding your sole attention. You can practically feel the icy, blue fire trailing across your thighs, and you focus your gaze out the window in a pathetic attempt to keep your mind off of the winter devil.

"Let us know when you land," Iwaizumi repeats, leaning down to the window. 

"Yes, Dad Number Two."

"Dad Number Two," chuckles Yamaguchi. "Make sure to look over the flashdrive, Senpai. If I come across anything else, I'll be sure to let you know. Have a safe trip," he adds, waving as the car slowly rolls down the roads.

"(Name)-paisen will be fine, little Yams," Oikawa calls, waving at the pair.

"Paisen..."

"Yeah, what of it?"

The cool winds smack at your face, urging you to finally roll up the windows and trapping you in the vehicle with two of your closest friends and another "friend" that would definitely sell your soul to the devil for a single spray bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Already, melancholy snags your heart away, making you chew your lip with a strange sensation of fondness and longing for your companions.

As Daichi eyes you from the rear-view mirror, he cracks a small smile. "Worried already, huh? Or maybe you're thinking about how much you'll miss us?"

"Oh, shut it," you grumble. "Tooru is rubbing off on you, I see."

"May God forbid it."

"Hey!" retorts, Oikawa, who fixes his lip balm.

Feeling just a hair lighter than you had before, you pull out your laptop from your backpack, immediately turning on the device. "Sakusa-san," you address the handsome demon by your side. "Yamaguchi found out some more information on the men. Would you like to look at the data he's compiled?"

Saying nothing else, the raven-haired man grunts in agreement as your fingers dance across the keyboard, typing in your password. Once you've entered the database, you toy around in your pocket for the small flash drive, and you pull out the small gadget before plugging it into your laptop. Almost immediately, it greets you with a single folder labelled "black diamond." Upon clicking the folder, a pop-up enters your field of vision.

_Bobata Kazuma._

_Higashiyama Katsumichi._

Both are twenty-three of age and employers of Johzenji Consulting- but you don't remember consultant companies going that far as to track down the governor's fiance and follow the pair to a party. Already, it sounds fishy to you- there has to be something else going on, and you'll have to depend on your interns to help you figure out more information. As far as you know, the heir to Johzenji, Terushima Yuji, is a bird-brained playboy who capitalizes on his company for his enjoyment. What would he have to do with Daisho and Yamaka?

"It says Johzenji is pursuing something," mutters Sakusa. "A specific thing?"

"I would have thought the head of Johzenji would have gone this far because he fancied Yamaka-san, but I guess that's not the case," you agree as you read more about what Yamaguchi had compiled.

"But it doesn't say what they're looking for," he points out, moving your cursor to click closer into the data. "Whatever the case, we'll have to wait in England with the couple until your interns finish deciphering their motives. Until then, it's not safe enough for them to stay in Japan, especially if they're this adamant on tracing the pair."

"Yeah, but does it really warrant an overseas travel?" you mumble, half to yourself. "Doesn't he have the election to worry about?"

"Maybe he could pass it off as like... international diplomacy?" suggests Tooru suddenly.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "He's not a diplomat."

"Whatever the case, be prepared. There could still be a chance they've tracked Daisho and Yamaka down already and have plans to follow them to Europe," Sakusa reminds you, his dark eyes swallowing up your gaze with its intensity as it lingers from your irises to your lashes. 

You feel the tips of your ears grow warm. "I know."

Daichi glares at you from the rear-view mirror. "No explosives," he warns.

"I know!"

Sakusa folds your laptop into the closed position. "We'd better get going. Looks like Daisho has been waiting for us," he notes as the car finally pulls up towards the private airport located in the outskirts of Tokyo.

"Rich people," you grumble, admiring how perfectly paved the roads and sidewalks are.

Local airports are always notorious for being so immaculate since they're mainly used for private jets or planes. The only few people who can afford this type of transportation is always the top 0.1% of Japan, so it comes as no surprise knowing that it's so well-kept. Though the Narita airport is clean and sharp, these are absolutely nothing like the typical mass airports in Japan. They're much smaller in size but have a different air of dignity that makes you shiver as soon as you exit Daichi's aged car.

"Glad to see you've made it!" Daisho's comment is immediate. "Come inside. The staff will take care of your luggage."

As the butler practically pushes you into the private plane, you offer your two friends an apologetic look, to which they just shake their heads and smile at. Nothing could be done if your client demanded your time, after all. Sakusa follows you closely, just giving the two agents a brief nod as Daisho urges you all in. You wish you had a bit more time to say goodbye, but on a time-crunch like this, every second of your mission is even more precious.

The inside of the plane is as every bit luxurious as you'd expect from a rich politician that evades all his taxes and capitalizes on thousands upon thousands of citizens. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but it slowly dissipates from your tongue as you see Yamaka lounging on a leather chair that gleams under the soft, golden lights. Her energy is infectious, already bringing a smile to your face as she waves you over.

"I'm so glad you found the place! I was worried since it can be kind of hard to find," she explains, offering you a flute of champagne. Before you can take it, she pulls it from your grasp, smiling so slyly that it reminds you of her serpentine fiance. "Oh, but perhaps alcohol isn't a great idea for the expecting missus, right?"

You swear you could blush in the largest range of red tones from her comment. "Oh, d-did Kuguri-san tell you? It was an excuse," you protest weakly, hoping Sakusa hadn't heard her.

On the other side of the private jet, he sits in another chair, calmly chatting with the governor over glasses of glistening whiskey, so deep and rich in color that it resembles maple syrup. Even after a short glance over to the two men, you can't help but think how fitting he looks in the heart of luxury- like maybe he should have never given up a successful modeling career for the sake of working in a secret agency.

Yamaka laughs. "I understand. I think it's so funny! I must say it was quite creative," she admits, handing you the flute. "Well, we have some time before take-off- why don't you sit down for a bit? Suguru has been driving me insane this morning, and I'm sick of testosterone."

Memories of this morning's events with the five (and a half, if you counted Suga) men run through your mind. "Believe me, I totally understand," you agree, sipping on the tart, bubbly liquid as it trickles down your throat like an elixir.

She grins. "I'm so glad you're here. I feel much better having you around. I've been told that we may not be entirely safe in England, but it's nice to get away, especially with someone as skilled as you by my side."

"You flatter me too much," you insist, trying to hide your smile. "There's nothing wrong with being vigilant, but I hope you'll be able to enjoy yourself."

"As long as you promise to do the same," she says, leaning in as that sly smile returns. "What are the odds you're invited to a pre-paid trip overseas with a handsome partner?"

"H-huh?!" you nearly spit out the champagne. "I don't... What?"

She tilts her head, cheekily grinning as she swirls the alcohol in her glass. "People say I have a sixth sense for these kinds of things... Just trust me when I say there's at least something there."

Oikawa's words from last night flash before your eyes. "You're imagining things," you repeat, half to yourself. "We're just work partners and nothing else, Yamaka-san," you hiss under your breath.

"You can call me Mika-chan," she offers. "And well, if you say so..." she says tauntingly, red lipstick staining her crystal glass.

The rouge on her lips resemble the hot flush of your cheeks, burning with the intensity of capsaicin that sticks to your skin like burnt sugar. She's wrong, or at least, as far as you can tell. Sure, Sakusa is a handsome man... but you'd be dumb to assume there's something unique you feel for him. Hell, even if you did feel something for him, there's no way in hell that he does! 

"Mika-chan, I guarantee there is nothing going on," you say, shaking your head.

"If you say so," she repeats, clinking her glass against yours. "Cheers?"

You attempt to smile through your burning cheeks. "Cheers."

The first few hours pass by quickly. With the slight buzz of the champagne bottle you and Yamaka had finished over the course of an hour, time drones by, hidden by the distraction of alcohol and cheesy rom-com movies that she had picked out. Through the haze of your vision, from either your tipsiness or your tears, you're enthralled with the complexity of relationships depicted in the movies that the two of you quietly wipe away your tears after every movie resolution.

Meals are frequent and fragrant, and you could swear you could live on this plane for the rest of your life. Judging by Sakusa's pleased face on this sanitation of the plane and the luxury of isolation, he likely shares the same sentiment. Even as the evening starts to roll around, tainting the plane in darkness through the tiny windows, you're at the peak of your relaxation.

Even if it's for sixteen hours, there's nothing else like letting your guard down.

In fact, you're at the peak of your relaxation that you somehow find yourself actually speaking with the stupidly handsome agent. Through the miasma of alcohol, you suspect that Yamaka had something to do with your placement, but right now, you can't bring yourself to thoroughly care- not when he's drunkenly and animatedly telling you about volleyball.

"Didn't know you played."

"Just for a bit. Up until high school," he admits, the red flush of alcohol glowing on his cheeks and tip of his nose. "Nothing. Absolutely _nothing_ like getting a good spike in."

He's angelic. He's stupid. He's handsome. He's crass. He's prickly, and Goddammit, he is irresistible. 

_It's the alcohol,_ you try to remind yourself over and over again. _You're drunk and lonely. There's no way in hell he's actually this attractive._

But the way he laughs so unabashedly and so unlike his usual aloof self claws at your heart. It's an unfamiliar, unsettling sensation in your chest, but you almost can't get enough. You find yourself asking him more about his old team, and his eyes light up as soon as the question leaves your lips. After pulling out his personal phone, he goes as far as to rest his head on your shoulder as he scrolls through pictures of him and his cousin and his other teammates. 

"We went to nationals every year," he explains, the weight of his head trembling against your flesh as his voice reverberates through your body. "Believe it or not, but I was a nationally-ranked spiker."

"There's nothing you can't do, huh?" whether if it's playing sports, analyzing data, modeling, or being one of the top agents, maybe Sakusa is just naturally good at whatever he does- except maybe having conversations when he isn't inebriated. 

"Don't say it like that," he says, and you feel the upturn of his cheeks.

His head is heavy but strangely comforting. The small, sensible part of you screams at you to push him away, but as he continues to uncharacteristically ramble about his endeavors in volleyball, the bigger part of you allows him to rest his heavy, warm head on you. You never knew how tiring relaxing could be. Even though you haven't done much this entire day, your eyelids droop with every lull of his words.

He smells good, as usual.

The fluff of his hair against your cheek almost serves as a pillow for you, and as his incoherent, slurred words enter one ear and out the other, you vaguely think about cursing Yamaka. No doubt, this is her scheme, but strangely enough, you can't care as you fall asleep to the hum of his raspy voice.


	9. NIGHTFALL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you make it to england!!! and sakusa is an angy babi

By the time you wake up, there's a throbbing in your head from the alcohol evaporating from your blood and a throbbing in the side of your shoulder as it hits the side of the private plane. The hands shoving you away immediately leave you shortly, and your eyelids are forced open from the impact.

"Get _off_ of me," hisses an all-too-familiar voice that screams with disdain. "You drooled all over my hair-"

"God, will you shut up?" you grumble, interrupting the harsh words that send flashes of pain to your temples. "Ugh, I should have drunk more water," you hiss to yourself as you try to soothe the awful after-effects of the champagne.

"I wouldn't be so sure that you're the victim here," drawls Sakusa sarcastically, words dripping with poison. "You aren't the only one hungover, and I had your spit dribbling onto my fuckin' forehead." He glares at you with such an intense smolder that would have singed your eyebrows, had your head not pulsed so harshly after your alcohol-induced nap.

You attempt to send him one of your own glares as a scoff escapes your lips. "I'm sorry, but you were the one clinging onto me all night like some kind of child. If anything, it's your own fault."

"My fault? I was drunk, (Surname)." The midnight agent's upper lip pulls back in annoyance.

"(Surname) _-san_ ," you correct him snappily. "And I was drunk, too. Can it, will ya?"

He sneers at you. "You are disgusting," he growls, wiping away at his forehead with a pocket handkerchief.

"Thank you very much," you retort.

"Imbecilic woman," he snarls, turning away from you and effectively shutting up.

As your fists tighten with rage and utter annoyance, you hardly even bat an eye as the wintery man gets up abruptly, leaving you in the presence of ghostly chill and mutilated vibrations of anger. Through the few open windows of the private plane, the sun reddens distinctly, reminding you just how little your previous nap had done for you. It must have been an hour long, but you hardly feel refreshed- in fact, you feel more exhausted, though you suppose it could be from the champagne.

Your fingers struggle to reach your temples in a pathetic attempt to massage the tension beneath your skin, and the seat next to yours dips. "Go away, Sakusa-san."

"It's me, though!" a feminine voice whines. "Are you okay? Did you guys get in a fight?"

Your head shoots up. "Oh, sorry, Mika-chan," you quickly apologize. "Er, no- this is how he usually is, unfortunately," you mutter, reaching out your hand as Yamaka hands you a pill and a glass of water that you take gratefully.

"You should talk to him," she suggests. "Maybe he'll apologize.

"No, thanks. He'll get over it eventually. I think he'd rather swallow dirt than cast his pride aside to apologize," you reply honestly, stifling an annoyed snort before downing the pill and glass of water.

"You never know!" she encourages, taking the empty glass from you to set it aside.

Someone slides into the seat behind you. "Ah, so you've gotten into another lovers' spat?" the governor and your superior notes, his tone amused and sly. "Remember when we were like that in high school, Mika?"

"It's not a lovers' spat," you defend.

The two ignore you. "Too well," she reminisces before turning to you with a determined gaze. "You're going to talk to him," she declares matter-of-factly. "I'll make sure it happens!"

Just to appease her, you agree with her mindlessly, turning towards the half-opened window next to you and observing the way the clouds drift by your vision as the planes starts its slow descent. Your ears bubble with pressure, and there's a weightlessness beneath your feet at the descending altitude as your headache fades away. Eventually, the scattered white of clouds disappear from your gaze as you're met with a slight drizzle of rain, red light of the evening refracting throughout the droplets. From this height, the city below you seems so insignificant, and you can't help but wonder why you're here. It seems surreal to be sent out to England, which makes this an international mission- something you haven't experienced since your first year with Hyuukai. It sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, and admittedly, a part of you wishes Sakusa was sitting beside you to spit some insults at you that would at least distract you from your ultimate mission that seems bigger than you now.

Melting snow blankets most building roofs, but you know better than to hope for warmer weather in England. Sleet and ice still covers the city despite the tiny droplets of cold rain descending from the darkening sky. If anything, you're lucky that it isn't snowing at the moment, but something tells you the weather will change as soon as the sun fully disappears from the horizon. The taste of late January is heavy on your tongue, weighed down by the importance of keeping the two chatting lovers besides you. Would this trip really help them?

"Come on! There's still a bit of light left!" Yamaka nudges you, pulling you out of your thoughts. "We have to explore the city!"

"Our luggage will be handled by the staff," mentions Daisho, who helps his fiance up from her seat.

Before you know it, the excited duo is dragging you and a grumbling Sakusa off the private jet once everything is cleared. As the four of you are ushered into a silver car, Yamaka is quick to pull out her phone to glance over the restaurant recommendations. Through the rearview mirror, you're almost jealous of the way Daisho lovingly looks at his significant other, and you wonder if someone would ever look at you like that.

"Hmm, Suguru isn't too much of a fan of gravy, so roasts are out of the question..." she mumbles, half to herself as her thumb fiddles with her phone screen. Maybe some pies? Oh, but I don't want to eat a pie during the rainy day..."

"Potatoes?" her lover suggests from the passenger seat.

You try so desperately to ignore the way Sakusa's thigh presses against yours, and his body heat against your pant leg is almost infuriating. It cloaks your side like a phantom, and you're acutely aware of the way the window fogs up from his warm breath when you sneak a glance towards the masked, frigid man. How strange is it to see such an icy male but to experience his body heat in a strange, somewhat intimate position with the side of his body pressed up against yours. A walking contradiction. The softness of your hands itch as you resist the urge to shove him away, but the air of the car forces you to stay as calm as you possibly can.

"Raclette!" cries Yamaka, shoving her phone into her lover's hands. "Here- follow this restaurant! It serves Raclette cheese on top of potatoes! We can make a last-minute reservation, right?"

"I'll call them now, dear," he respond easily.

Oh, to be the spoiled fiance of a rich, powerful politician. 

As the driver makes his way to deliver you to the restaurant, you nearly shudder at the commanding tone of the governor's voice as he requests- no, demands a reservation to the high-end restaurant, his English immaculate and absolute. It flows and stretches as he confirms the current time and the time designated for the reservation. Rich people.

Once you've all arrived in front of the flashy, admirable restaurant, you attempt to shove your wallet into your tiny pockets to no avail. Upon seeing your distress, Yamaka is kind enough to place your belongings into her purse, and she drags you into the expensive restaurant that reeks of perfume and thyme. Daisho takes a few moments to speak with the hostess, and-

Suddenly, you find yourself tucked into a crisp, clean chair in front of elegant crystal glasses of wine that makes you dizzy within a few sips- like you _hadn't_ learned your lesson from only an hour ago. A large napkin covers your thighs as a platter of aromatic potatoes, cured meat, and olives is placed before you.

It looks expensive. And delicious. "Mika-chan, I thought you said there'd be cheese-"

Then, a waiter dressed in black leans out, scraping a layer of warm, stretchy cheese all over your potatoes, the creamy and mild scent tickling your nostrils and taking you aback. "...Nevermind," you murmur, watching the waiter scrape another layer onto your companions' plates before he gives you a sly wink.

Deciding to ignore his flirtatious advances from the way Sakusa glares at you, you focus on the platter of food and stab your glistening fork into the soft-looking cheese and potato combination. Desperately trying to manifest his glare away, you pop the morsel of food into your mouth, trying to convince yourself of the complex taste whilst his eyes burn into the side of your face.

This continues for practically the entire dinner, and it doesn't go unnoticed by your friend, who nonchalantly nudges your calf with her ankle. Even as she gives you a pointed look, you host the sensation of uncertainty in the depths of your heart, focusing your attention on the deep wine that tastes faintly of cherries. If it means ignoring Sakusa's ice, you'd gladly risk another hangover. The rich aroma of cured meats is inquisitive and divine, but you can't bring yourself to enjoy it when his heated gaze lingers on your nose bridge. 

The bill, of course, is taken care of by Daisho, who refuses to hear any of your complaints or Sakusa's insistence of covering his portion of dinner. Guilt consumes the bottom half of your stomach, but you force the prickling sensation away.

"If you enjoyed it, that's enough for me," says the governor, his breath soft clouds against the sharp, late January air.

It's eight in the evening, but you've never felt so exhausted before despite your nap. Is it the cherry wine taking effect on you? Is it the navy blue of the night sky? The fullness of your stomach? You can't tell, and your mind hardly processes the couple leaving the two of you by a wet streetlamp as they decide to look through a quaint, shimmering shop right next door.

The silence between the two of you is suffocating, choking you with tension. It succumbs to the darkness of nightfall, and you feel like if you break the silence, you'd lose all your memories to the cold or to the dark. The winds bites away at your cracked lips, dry from the long plane ride, and you finally get the courage to look back at Sakusa, who's staring right at you.

Unlike at the dinner table, his gaze is devoid of emotion. There's no anger, no annoyance, nor any contempt beneath his dark eyes. Housed in his midnight irises is aloofness, but there's a sliver of curiosity glimmering within them. It's unsettling, really. It's like he's forgotten entirely about your saliva on his forehead or even him resting his head on your shoulder- something that bothers you, though you're not sure why.

"Cold?" his words are muffled by his mask.

"England is just as cold as Tokyo," you admit. "Or even colder."

"They're taking their time."

"Daisho-san said they were picking out gifts for relatives, didn't they? That'll have to take some time... but I don't think I'm in the mood to join them," you say honestly, just wanting to crawl on top of a soft mattress and curl into a ball to sleep your exhaustion away. There's another guard watching them, anyways.

He nods towards another building. "They're selling Belgian waffles with ice cream. I don't think they're closed yet if you're cold..." his suggestion is flat on his tongue.

"Because ice cream will warm me up," you respond, raising an eyebrow.

What's with this guy and eating ice cream or shaved ice in the dead of winter? You suppose a sweet tooth can force anyone to act upon crazy reasons.

"It's warm inside," he reasons, but you know it's just because he wants a waffle of his own.

You decide to humor him. "Just for a few minutes," you agree. "Until they're done."

The waffle parlor smells sweet, like caramelized sugar and sweet cream. Like you'd predict, not many people are in the dessert shop at this hour, especially when it's this cold outside. The portions look small, but the prices make your eyes widen to the size of an ice cream scoop.

"Are you getting one?" Sakusa asks as you glance away from the menu.

"They're expensive," you say, though your eyes linger on the strawberry cheesecake flavor of ice cream. "And Mika-chan has my wallet in her purse anyways."

"I'll buy you one."

"Why?" your response is immediate, cold, and callous, but you regret it immediately.

His stare is like blackened cobalt. "Does there have to be a reason?" he asks, sounding annoyed. "A simple refusal will suffice, insolent girl."

"Fine," you snap, pointing to the flavor you had wanted. "This one."

"Choose something else- that's the one I was going to get."

"Are you a child?" you nearly bark out, not noticing the way the only worker gives the two of you a deadpan look.

Ignoring you, Sakusa marches up the register, placing his order. Your English is nowhere near as good as him, but you've caught on enough to notice that he has the audacity to order only a single waffle despite his offer. Annoyance bites away at you, gnawing away like a termite on fresh wood, and you have to resist the urge to sneeze in his face.

"Are you kidding me? You are so selfish, Sakusa-san."

He turns to you, frustration threaded onto his eyebrows. "All I did was order the large size so we could share," he emphasizes, grabbing two paper plates and plastic utensils. "I'll cut it down the middle."

Embarrassment blazes over you like a forest fire. "O-oh." How crude of you.

The waffle comes out quickly since it's the only order of the hour. It's warm and crisp, and you can see the sweet ice cream melt onto the dessert. A few strawberry pieces and chocolate syrup garnish the plate, and Sakusa is quick to evenly split the dessert between two plates. As soon as he hands you a plate, your fork and knife dig into the fluffy texture of the waffle, and the piece disappears into your mouth like you hadn't eaten a five-star meal just twenty minutes ago.

It's cold- and warm. A little sweet but tart from the berries. Much like the man sitting in front of you, and it's kind of funny seeing the pleased expression on his face.

You have to stifle your laughter. "You're really like a kid."

"Hm." He doesn't bother with a proper response.

Within minutes, your portion disappears, but his disappears even faster than yours. Despite being the larger size from the menu, the waffle was too expensive for its size, and you have to resist the urge to ask Sakusa to buy another one for the two of you.

"Oh, there you are! We were wondering where you had gone, but we saw you through the window. Are you just about finished? We'd better head over to the hotel!" Yamaka chirps.

"It's pretty close by," adds Daisho, who holds multiple bags in his arms. "Shall we?"

The plates are returned or disposed of, depending on the material, along with the plasticware. Upon reaching the outside evening air, you're met with the chill of England's winter once again. Like magic, the driver appears with that silver car, and you're forced into the middle seat once again. This time, however, it's not too bad being pressed up between Yamaka and Sakusa. There's a comfort within your chest- or perhaps its your exhaustion. Regardless, you can't bring yourself to have any qualms about being in this tight space.

Just like the governor had said, it doesn't take long to reach the hotel.

"Be prepared to attend lunch with me tomorrow in secret," says Daisho as he unbuckles his seat belt. "I'll be meeting up with that friend for advice, but I'd like to be as safe as possible."

"You want us to spy on your meeting with a friend?"

"No, he's right," interrupts Sakusa, who unbuckles his own seatbelt. "There will be eyes on him tomorrow. I thought you had noticed the people following us on the road?"

Your eyes widen, and you feel impressed with his sharp eyesight. "...I-it's been a long day."

"Understandable," Daisho sympathizes. "I don't think we'll be in much trouble tonight, but I'm having the both of you in the same room next to ours as a precaution. There should still be two beds, but in case anything happens tonight, I'd feel better with the both of you together." He steps out of the car, and the rest of you are quick to follow suit.

You want to wince. "Yes, sir." You follow him into the hotel, which is golden and luxurious, screaming with money and power.

"They'll probably follow you to lunch tomorrow, right, Suguru?" Yamaka worries, holding her hands to her chest. "The two of you will look after him, right?"

"We promise," you reassure her as Sakusa nods simply.

After checking in, the four of you head up the sparkling elevator, your luggage gripped tightly in your hands. How foolish had you been to not notice a whole car following you? Judging by the relaxed expression on your partner's face, there doesn't seem to be any presence of a threat for now, but you feel horrible for not noticing before. Granted, it had been only for a short amount of time, but how could you call yourself one of Hyuukai's best agents if you couldn't be vigilant enough to spot a single car after your client?

The couple bids you goodnight as you prod the digital key against the door.

"Hey."

"Hi," you respond glumly, pushing the door open.

Sakusa is quiet for a few, fleeting moments. "Sorry. About earlier on the plane."

Your eyes widen as you turn to him. "What?"

"I don't think I should have yelled at you," is all he says, his princely face illuminated by the back light of the hallway. He reaches over to flick on the hotel room's light. "It wasn't just your fault- it was mine, too."

You kind of want to hear how it had been all his fault, but this is good enough for now. "It's alright. I'm over it," you say, pausing when you see the horrified expression on his face, though it's partially covered by his mask. 

"Oh my God," he mutters shakily.

"What? Is something wrong?-" you ask, turning towards the hotel room once again.

Your blood freezes in your veins as your eyes settle on the bed. "Oh," you croak out, realizing why he had been staring at the bed in horror. "I-I thought Daisho said there'd be two beds?"

"That's what I thought." To both your dismay and amusement, Sakusa already looks like he regrets apologizing to you, and he takes a step away from you, sucking in a disgusted breath.

Well, you hadn't expected him to have a change of heart _that_ easily.

"You are to stay three feet away from me during the night, and you'll be taking the bed," he spits immediately.

" _Sakusa-san_!"


	10. KINGDOM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sakusa is being weird!!!!! whats up with him?

Shadows flicker at the door, licking away at the faint lights of the hallway peaking from the cracks. It reminds you of fluffy, obsidian curls sitting on top of a certain man who had been swarming your thoughts as a result of the new partnership assigned to you by your superior. As your breathing quickens, the thumping in your heart evolves into a complex fluttering of beats, dancing wildly within your rib cage.

Just a few hours ago after your bath, you and the raven-haired secret agent had agreed to spend the night in the same room without disrupting your client's evening. The condition had been to stay at least three feet apart from each other; he'd be taking the convertible futon on the other side of the room while you'd stay in the clouds of the California king-sized bed. As soon as you had crawled under the heavy, plush blankets, you had already felt oceans apart from him- just the way the two of you had preferred and agreed on.

So why is Sakusa's chest pressed against your back through his haze of a semi-delirious midnight run to the bathroom?

The sound of the sink running had woken you from your pathetic attempt of slumber, but you would have never expected the usually diligent man to lazily slide against you on the bed. In his daze, had he forgotten that he wasn't at home and instead at a hotel room with you? Even if he did, why did he choose to crawl up to you when there was plenty of bed to spare? For someone so notorious for being a germaphobe, he was awfully close to you, and this kind of habit arose when you had a significant othe-

Wait a second. Is Sakusa even single?

The arm around your waist burns. He had never told you anything about his private life, so it would make sense for him to hide anything about a significant other in his life. Perhaps through his drowsy miasma, he had thought of you as his lover at home- a thought that made your chest uncomfortably tight. You would have never expected him to be such a cuddler with his lover, let alone even be experienced in love considering how much he hates normal human contact. You try so desperately to ignore the way he feels against you.

Ignoring the shrieking of your heart and the warmth of his breath on your neck, you turn on your side to push him away. "Sakusa-san." Your voice is firm.

"Mmm."

"Sakusa-san," you repeat, enveloping yourself within the blanket instead of his warmth. "Wake up."

A single eye drifts open. "What?" he snaps, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"You're breaking our rule," you hiss back, tugging the entirety of the blankets away from him. "It's me. (Surname). I don't know who you _think_ I am, but you're invading my personal space."

One. Two. Three-

"Jesus!" he sputters, the information finally processing through his brain as he scampers to the other side of his bed. "What the hell are you doing?!" he spits, wiping away his hands at his pajama pants.

"Me?" you bellow, sitting up to glare at him. "What are _you_ doing? You're supposed to be on the futon!"

He looks angry and embarrassed, like he doesn't want to admit his mistakes. "It was a force of habit," he says through gritted teeth. "I thought I was at home."

"I'm literally in this bed- isn't it concerning to see someone else in your own bed?" you point out harshly. "Even if you have a significant other at home, you have _eyes_. I doubt you have a room half as nice as this." You wave your hand around. "You owe your girlfriend or boyfriend an apology!"

"I'm not dating anyone," he snaps, pushing himself off the bed. "Like I said, it was a force of habit."

You wonder just exactly why cuddling against someone is a force of habit like he says. In any case, it almost comes to you as a relief to know that he's as single as you are for some odd reason. From what you're hearing, it sounds like he must have gotten used to sleeping in the same bed as someone at one point in his life, and you're strangely curious as to what kind of person must have captured the heart of such a cold and germaphobic man. You want to know more.

"Well next time, use a stuffed animal as a substitute for your ex instead of me," you retort, contradicting how you really feel.

Wait. No. That's not how it was supposed to come out.

Grimacing, you prepare yourself to apologize. Even for your relationship with him, it had been out-of-bounds to snap something at him like that. You don't even know how long he's been single for, but you really shouldn't be assuming things about his personal life. It's rude and an invasion of his privacy.

Guiltily, you stare up at the raven-haired man, but to your surprise, a hint of sadness and discomfort lingers in his eyes instead of anger and disgust like you'd normally expect from him. It snatches the breath away resting in your throat, and your heart twists at the forlorn look on his face. It's an expression you've never seen on his face, and a twinge of jealousy claws at you knowing that someone else is the reason for this rare emotion on his face.

Struggling to swallow his pride, he presses his lips tightly. "I know," he mutters.

"Wait... Sakusa-san, I'm sorry." Your apology is immediate. "That was uncalled for."

"No, I'm sorry," he sighs, running his hand through his hair and looking awfully tired in that baby blue t-shirt of his. "I don't know what got into me. Forget it- we need to be up early in the morning."

A raspy, quiet "okay" leaves your lips, and your eyes follow him as he shuffles his way back to the lonely futon. A strange, wide array of different emotions rush through you, and you can't pinpoint a theme for your rampant heart at the moment. The head of dark hair disappears under the covers, and you force yourself to follow suit.

Your curiosity is just piqued even more after this encounter, and you stay up for another hour, trying desperately to ignore the gentle winds of his breathing that had been so warm on your skin just minutes before.

By the time it's time for the two of you to wake up, you feel like you hadn't slept since that run-in with him. Eyelids heavy and movements slow, your brain lights are on, but no one is home. It takes you an extra fifteen minutes to get ready, but Sakusa doesn't even snap at you to hurry up with your hair. Instead, he lingers on top of the futon, gaze focused on the world from the twelfth floor.

It feels like the air is suffocating, and you can hardly take a breath around him in fear of choking on your words. The moment you finally make eye contact with him for the first time that morning, you swear you could reach Heaven's gate with the way your spirit jumps from you. Unlike last night, his gaze is so heavy and intense that you're almost scared of him. It's not like he's actively angry at you, but there's a frigidness to him that's so much worse than his usual crabbiness.

"Good morning!" chirps Yamaka when the two of you meet her and Daisho in the hotel lobby. "How'd you two sleep?" she asks almost slyly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Fine," you lie, hardly even noticing the teasing lilt of her voice. "And you?"

Her smile falters. "Oh... well enough, I suppose," she murmurs before peering at you and leaning in closely as the men busy themselves in a lazy conversation. "Did... something happen last night?"

Your mind whizzes back to last night, memories of his faint cologne and baby blue t-shirt ingrained in your limbic system. "Uh... I think I might have brought up some memories he wanted to forget," you say slowly. "I was... half-joking and not thinking, but the topic of his ex came up, and... I don't know. He's acting kind of weird now."

Her eyes grow to the size of plates. "His ex? You think he's not over her or something?" she whispers back. "So you have competition after all, huh. When did they break up?"

"Hell if I know," you say, shaking your head. "Hey, wait- what's this about competition! I told you, there's nothing there!" you hiss, though the thought of Sakusa still moping over some ex-lover brings an awfully bitter and sour taste to your mouth.

You briefly wonder why, but your thoughts are interrupted when Daisho clears his throat.

"So, I expect the two of you to be on your toes during lunch today," he hints, offering you a small smile.

"Of course, sir," you promise, quick to your feet. "Will it be okay discussing such matters with your companion in public?"

"Well, we'll be covering more at his estate, but I've done some thinking and changed plans with him this morning," he replies in such a fashion that is so like him. "Now that we know we're being followed, we'll be discussing my plans and getting advice for my next moves at his home after lunch, but we've decided to still meet up for lunch in an attempt to throw off the ones following us."

Sakusa's eyes narrow. "So you want us to keep our eyes on them while they try to spy on you. To spy on the... spies." He almost sounds skeptical.

"Spy-ception," whistles Yamaka, giggling. "Clever plan, isn't it?"

"A very juvenile and simple plan," adds Daisho. "But if the two of you are as good as Shimizu-san says, then I'm sure you'll be able to pull this off effortlessly. Sometimes it's the simplest of plans that work the best. In any case, I'll need you two to disguise more subtly than whatever you're wearing. Dress more like a couple as to not draw any attention."

Great, this again?

"Of course," you mutter somewhat half-heartedly.

"While you fix your appearances, try to get an idea of where your agency is with the ciphering. The weather isn't doing my skin justice, and I'd actually prefer to go home where it isn't as dry," he jokes, grasping Yamaka's hand that sparks that tiny ember of envy within you. 

Must be nice to be in love.

You try so desperately to laugh at his joke, but with Sakusa's strange moodiness and your exhaustion, your smile comes out to look more like a grimace. Hopefully Yamaguchi or Muraki is still awake and able to give you an idea of where they are in their research about Johzenji.

After grabbing a quick bagel from the quaint bakery that smells of java and home, you trudge through the snow to return back to the hotel. In the paper bag is another one for Sakusa, but when you reach the hotel's room, he's sitting at the table with a cup of watery, black coffee.

"Here," you offer, handing him an Asiago bagel with cream cheese, wrapped in a few napkins. "Lunch is still a while away."

He says nothing, accepting the bagel silently. Oh, boy.

"Hey..." you start nervously, anxiety pricking at your skin. "About last night. I'm really sorry... uh, if I-"

"It's fine," he says, interrupting you. "Just don't bring it up again."

You nod slowly. "Right."

If you hadn't been curious before, you're practically foaming at the mouth now. The urge to know more about this mysterious ex-lover who had clearly left Sakusa bitter sears at you with such an intense heat that your blood boils. He seems composed now, but the mention of this topic is something he obviously wants to hide from. The fact that someone like him wants to bury this kind of topic makes your curiosity burn within the base of your head.

Who is this person? What had happened between the two? Is he really over his ex?

It's really none of your business... but you can't help but sneak glances at him as you eat your bagel.

Is his ex the reason why he's as cold as he is now?

Trying to ignore your thoughts, you focus your attention onto your phone. Thankfully, Muraki is awake and shooting you around five texts a minute.

Your disguise composes of a black mask that covers the bottom portion of your face, a beanie to cover your hair, thick, silver-rimmed glasses, a knit scarf, and heavier eye makeup. In your humble opinion, it's a subtle disguise that suits many young women living in the harsh English weather. Sakusa is dressed similarly, though his glasses are black and round. If anything, he looks like a poet or an author. As always, it's unfair how good he looks in anything.

Like clockwork, the two of you meet with your client as Yamaka relaxes in the spa under the loyal eye of the hotel. Daisho is quick to lead you into a cab that takes you to the outskirts of London. The rumble of the car distracts you from the cold feeling of your fingers and Sakusa's presence as Daisho mindlessly shoots you a bunch of questions.

"They're almost done, actually," you tell the governor. "My interns."

"Oh, really?" he asks, turning around from the passenger seat to glance at you.

"They told me they'll have their motives deciphered by the end of the lunch," you explain, glancing at your phone's clock. "We know they're looking for something of yours," you say, glancing over at the cab driver, who thankfully doesn't seem to know any Japanese.

"They? Johzenji?"

"You said you know the heir, right?" you ask curiously.

You can see him shrug briefly. "Somewhat. I don't know what he'd need with me, let alone Mika. That's your job for today. If your interns don't finish in time, try to figure something out by the time we go to my friend's place."

"As you've stated," you confirmed.

The cab pulls up in front of a French-inspired cafe. With the snow covering the roof and patio, the small building looks sweet and expensive. As Daisho pays the cab driver, you note that only a handful of people are eating lunch here as Sakusa beckons you over to the side so as to avoid affiliation with the governor. Customers are either wealthy and elderly couples stopping by for a quick bite or young, hipster-esque adults laughing pretentiously about a few novels.

"Suguru, it's been a while!" a dark-haired man with a frog-like smile approaches your client. His eyes dart to you briefly, as if understanding the situation already.

"Koji," greets Daisho. "Good to see you again. How is your spouse? I heard the two of you are expecting."

Hiroo Koji, an old friend of Daisho's, beams at your client. "Oh, yes! Come, come. It's about time for our reservation..." the two men continue to chat away before entering the establishment.

The chilly winds nip at your nose. "We should wait a bit before going in," you suggest, teeth clacking as you shiver even with your warm accessories and giant coat.

"Yeah."

You aren't quite sure if you like this new, silent Sakusa. He's always been relatively quiet, but he isn't snapping retorts or sneering at you today. It's strange, and you hate to admit that you actually prefer it when he's being snarky. Instead, the stone-cold stoicism lain out on his face makes you uneasy. His demeanor today is unsettling and different, and part of you wants to shake him and insist that he insults you or something.

Then, you spot two familiar men idly walking into the cafe. You exchange a look with your partner. There's your cue.

They're sitting down at the booth near the window. As Sakusa smoothly chats with the hostess to insist that you'd also like a booth, you notice that they're sitting close to Daisho and Hiroo. To your annoyance, you've been sat at a table away from the main source of action, and you can seen Daisho frown as you walk past his booth.

"Good enough," mutters Sakusa as he pretends to focus his gaze onto the sticky menu. "Split something with me."

Your head shoots up from the menu written in a font that makes your head hurt. "What? Why?"

"It's less suspicious if we look like we're on a date," emphasizes the secret agent. "Splitting something will help us blend in better."

"I'm kind of hungry. Can we just go half-half on some things?"

Sakusa's winter eyes have that familiar, cold edge to them. "Do as you please," he manages to grunt out. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Figures he'd want to go wash his hands before your meal. "I'll go once you come back, but see if you can try to eavesdrop on the Johzenji men," you suggest, eyes focusing onto the crepe section. "I'll order for the both of us. Do you have any preferences?"

Attached to his scarf is a tiny microphone to record anything the men might say. "Do as you please," he repeats, standing up and heading over to the bathroom. Through the corners of your eyes, you watch him linger in the presence of a waiter, pretending to ask for directions for the bathroom when you know he's really just trying to see if the men will spill anything.

After you order a strawberry and chocolate crepe and slow-cooked duck from a young waitress with ice-blonde hair, you check your phone for any more useful texts from Muraki. There are seventeen, useless messages from the young intern, but none of them make any sense. Then, there's one from Yamaguchi, written in Morse code. 

It's a single word- _heirloom_ , it reads.

Almost instantly, Sakusa slips back into the seat next to you. His lips are so close to your ear that it briefly evokes memories of his breath against your hot skin last night.

"Daisho must have stolen something from them. I caught something about thievery in their conversations, but that's all I could make out from them. They're very quiet," he murmurs to you, though to an outsider, it'd look like he's whispering sweet nothings to you.

Thievery. Of _course!_

Your eyes flicker back down to the text you had received from Yamaguchi, and a frown settles onto your lips as you realize just exactly what must have happened and why the Johzenji company is targeting the governor. It all makes sense. You've already found out that Daisho is capable of thievery based on your initial mission with Suga and based on the rare or elusive goods and items located in his mansion. Not to mention, you've heard suggestions that his death threats are also because of his tendency to steal items that caught his eye instead of preventing his re-election. If anything, it's about time someone has targeted him because of these items- or heirloom, in Johzenji's case.

Are they looking to recover the stolen heirloom? Or are they looking for revenge against Daisho? Plotting against his life seems extreme and out of character for a company so caught up in self-image, so you can only assume that they just want to retrieve the item back. If that's the case, you can thoroughly rule out Johzenji as the culprit for Daisho's death threats.

"That's all we need to know."


	11. CRYSTAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the two johzenji men pee their pants in your presence

The taste of herbs and smoke attached to the slivers of duck on your plate are like what you'd imagine soot to taste like. It isn't a bad meal- in fact, you can see Sakusa enjoy the food thoroughly, but it leaves a sour taste that relentlessly clings to your mouth. While the dish has been plated so delicately and prepared so meticulously, you can hardly fathom the flavors when Daisho's scorching gaze pierces through your shoulder blades like that. Your thumbs still buzz with the sensation of faint electricity of the burner phone sitting in between your thighs.

"Our next move?" you mumble to Sakusa through a mouthful of scorching onion and potato.

"It looks like they rented a car to come here. Once they follow Daisho out of the cafe, I'll take the one in the gray coat. You handle the one in the brown coat," mutters the secret agent, his glacial eyes darting all over the room in case of any listening ears. "Is your recorder on?"

"Yeah," you roughly adjust your scarf in a brief manner to flash the tiny device attached to it, mirroring his own scarf. "How do we know they'll even comply in the first place?"

"I brought an extra gun," he says slowly, hiding his lips as he delicately eats a strawberry. "Use it so that neither of them gets away-"

Huh?

"You _what_?" you hiss, nudging his ankle with the tip of your boots. "We're in public during broad daylight. There are civilians outside! How could you just bring a weapon out here like that?"

Just how trigger-happy is your partner? The precarious glint in his eyes and the impatient fidgeting of his left leg is enough to drive you insane with worry; at least you're smart enough to hide your tiny grenades away. There's a time and place for everything, but now is certainly not the time to try to shoot someone. As you vindictively glare at him, he shrugs, stealthily slipping the sleek handgun into your lap. Quick to hide it, you bite your lip when the cold metal viciously bites at your thighs through your thick jeans.

"It's part of our job, (Surname)-san. We won't actually be using them," he insists, scooting further away from you. "Just press it against their back as we walk to the car. We're here for information only- remember that."

Fair enough, you suppose. At this point, you can't be too choosy. When tenacious Sakusa has his mind set on something, it's difficult to convince the stubborn devil otherwise. Now, you can sneak a glance towards the two men murmuring to one another, and their quiet conversation forces your gaze towards your client, who calmly starts to get up to lead his companion towards the cafe's entrance. Ah, it's arrived- here's your chance!

"Daisho's getting up," you mention idly, slapping a few notes onto the table for the bill. The few waiters and waitresses eye you and Sakusa but don't make any moves to stop you. "We need to go."

As swift and sneaky as ever, he follows you deftly like a loyal guard dog. The winter air feels like tiny icicles pricking away at your skin, summoning goosebumps to the top layer of your flesh. As a chattering Daisho and Hiroo slip into a luxury-brand car that's been modified with expensive parts, you catch sight of the two Johzenji men hastily walk towards the back of the cafe, where there's a bit of parking left.

Your phone dings with a text from the governor, and when you open it, you show it to your partner. While you take care of the two Johzenji men, he'll be with Hiroo and then promptly dropped off at the hotel. For now, you'll have to gather as much information as you can before returning to the hotel to ensure Daisho's safety. While you don't want to leave Daisho alone, you trust him enough to take care of himself for the time being.

"Excuse me, sir!" calls out Sakusa, waving his hand and catching the attention of your targets. "You forgot something at the cafe!" quickly jogging to the men, he leaves you in the icy road.

"Welp, guess we're starting now," you mutter under your breath, quickly following your partner.

The one with lighter hair beams at Sakusa, and you see him scurry over to the raven-haired agent. Immediately, Sakusa pulls out a gun and presses it against the midst of the caramel-haired man's back, taking care to hide the weapon from any prying eyes. Before the darker-haired Johzenji man can react, you take it upon yourself to mirror your partner's actions and offer the tall, ashy-haired man a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Don't make any noise or sudden movements," demands your partner. "We'll go straight to your car, and you'll be answering our questions if you want to go back to Japan in one piece."

"Awfully sweet of you to offer us a ride back to our hotel," you purr, pressing the gun's muzzle deeper into his back. "Higashiyama-san, right? And Bobata-san... I wonder what kind of car you drive!"

You know for a fact that the four of you are alone, shielded from any curious gazes by the gentle falling of the snow and the back walls of the cafe. Even in the parking lot, no one else seems to be loitering on the gravel, but you can't help but say this as an excuse in case if there are any hidden recorders or video cameras. CCTV has surely made its mark in the world, and while your weapons are sneakily concealed, there's nothing wrong with taking careful measures.

"R-ride?" Bobata, the lighter-haired one squeaks, exchanging a worried glance with his partner.

"You _did_ offer us a ride in your car, right?" urges Sakusa, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Higashiyama gulps, giving his partner a pointed look that could melt the ice beneath your feet. "Yeah, that's right," he says firmly, taking a step forward. "We'll show you the way to the car!"

Step by step, the two men hesitantly lead you to an unassuming, coffee-brown car that's seen some years. Sakusa nudges you, taking the gun from your hand and pressing both guns in, still careful of any video cameras or eyes. Quizzically, you glance back at him and give him a look of confusion as you shake your head. Did he not trust you to keep Higashiyama in place?

"Get rid of the black box just in case," orders Sakusa. "We'll wait here."

"Why do I have to do it? I don't have a screwdriver," you say dryly, rolling your eyes.

He sighs as the two men exchange worried looks. "Look in my pocket. I usually keep one on me, but it's small."

Just as he had promised, there's a tiny, travel-sized screwdriver in the inside of his coat pocket. It hangs on a key ring with a utility knife, a small flashlight, and various keys. You don't even want to question as to why he has something like this, but you decide you can't complain if he always has something this handy on him.

"For real? Always so meticulous," you sigh, opening the driver's side to dismantle the camera.

Grunting, you pull your scarf up, effectively burying the lower half of your face into the knitted fabric and shielding your face any other hidden cameras. The parts of the dashboard are easily removed with the careful precision of your actions. Making sure not to damage any other parts of the car, you fiddle around with the wires connected to the black box. The process takes a few minutes longer than you had expected, and when you look up past the windshield, you can see the three men shivering from the brunt of English weather. Trying to stifle your laughter, you reattach all the parts quickly, pressing down on the dashboard to ensure its stability. Hidden in the middle air vent is another set of wires connected to a tiny database and a minuscule camera, and you remove it to pocket it in the hidden pouch of your coat.

"It's done," you call to the men as you slip out back into the frigid air.

Wordlessly, Sakusa gives you the other handgun as he ushers Bobata into the driver's seat and takes the passenger seat for himself. Sighing, you do the same with Higashiyama, though the two of you are in the backseat. The metal gun presses onto your target's waist, and you can't help but feel bad for him considering the horrified expression on his face.

"Oh my God." His mutter is shaky and soft. "This is _not_ what I signed up for."

"You're part of Johzenji, right? Don't look so surprised- I did my homework," you say proudly, nudging the ashy-haired man. "What did you sign up for then?"

"We were just supposed to trail Daisho-san. That's all we were ordered to do," sputters Bobata, who seems to be frothing at the mouth with panic. "Nothing more and nothing less- just find out what his motives are. I mean, the guy flew all the way in fucking England! Of course our boss wants to know what he's up to!"

Sakura raises a single eyebrow. "Not here to hurt him? How can we be sure to even believe you? It's awfully suspicious to be trailing him if all you want to know is what he's doing here."

"I-it's the truth!" stammers Higashiyama, holding his hands up in surrender. "Daisho-san has taken something valuable from our boss, so Boss wanted us to keep an eye on him before deciding to do anything else. We didn't think he'd tail it all the way to Europe!"

Your mind flickers back to the memory of Yamaguchi's task. "Oh! A heirloom, right?" you guess, nudging the muzzle of your gun into his stomach.

Higashiyama gulps harshly. "Yeah. Terushima-sama really wants it back but has been careful with his actions. We've just been following him and his fiance to see what he's going to do with it. I swear it!"

"I know," you say reassuringly. "We've seen you around them. Do you take us as idiots?"

Bobata's eyes widen with realization, meeting yours from the rear view mirror. "Y-you're... you were at that party! The French-Japanese couple!" he cries in recognition. "I-I didn't realize... you two are good..."

"Bingo!" 

"So, that's all your boss wants?" cuts in Sakusa, narrowing his eyes at the two Johzenji men. "The heirloom? Is he planning on doing anything else?" he asks, threatening Bobata with the cold gun.

Bobata squeaks in terror, his left eye twitching with anxiety. "N-no! He just wants it back! The heirloom is an expensive necklace passed down from his grandmother's side of his family, and he wants to present it to his daughter when she turns of age!" he promises, lip quivering as his eyes water. "You have to trust us. Terushima-sama is a simple and honest man. He doesn't like conflict, really! I'm sure he'll have us leave the governor alone as long as he gives the necklace back!"

"Troublesome," mutters Sakusa, snorting.

"Are you going to hurt us?" asks Bobata, mythical brown eyes widening in fear.

"Behave, and we won't-"

"We won't," you promise the men, who seem to sigh in relief at your statement and send you grateful looks.

Sakusa, however, looks peeved, eyes flaring with the intensity of the fire of his blood. "Oi!" he snaps, lips pulled back in a sneer.

"We don't plan on hurting you," you continue, pressing the metal gun closer into Higashiyama's abdomen. "But if word about our secret encounter today gets out, I can guarantee that neither of you will ever see the light of day ever again. In fact, I will make your demise so excruciating that you'll beg for me to end you quickly!" you chirp out cheerfully. "We'll be relaying this information to Daisho, so you shouldn't have anything to worry about as long as you keep your lips sealed. Understood?"

The men look horrified. "Yes."

"Good," you coo. "What you're going to do is drop us off at the hotel- don't look at me like that. If you've really been trailing Daisho like you said, you'll know which one it is. Once you do, I want you both to return to Japan and reassure Terushima-san that he will be receiving his heirloom. A single necklace is of no value to him, so I'm sure he'd be more than willing to return in. Once you see Terushima-san, you'll continue to work normally, forgetting this exchange ever happened. In fact, he should be the only one to know about this encounter, otherwise your innards will be frozen and strung in the woods for the animals to eat!"

"My God," spits Sakusa, grimacing at the visual. "You are _vulgar."_

"You have our word," weakly mumbles Higashiyama, his voice hoarse with fear and nausea. "We aren't trained, I promise. We won't do anything."

You give him a small smile. "I believe you. Bobata-kun, you should start driving. I'm sure Daisho is already back at the hotel, and the faster you get us there, the faster you can go back to Japan to talk to Terushima-san!"

The honey-haired man doesn't need to be told twice. Immediately, he turns on the engine, not even bothering to let the car warm up before high-tailing it out of the parking lot. To your delight, the two men are awfully silent as the car speeds down the roads, wheels slipping on the icy gravel. The leather seats of the car, once frigid and biting, have started to warm up in the company of body heat and the blasting of the heater.

Before you know it, the men are promptly urging you out of the car as soon as you reach the luxurious hotel. After another sweet threat from your pouty lips, you have confidence in their loyalty to you. Since you've signed as an agent, no one had ever seen you as someone scary until you started speaking with that silver tongue of yours. It's a rare thing to experience, so you suppose those two Johzenji men happened to be lucky today. As you cheerfully bid them goodbye, they're quick to scamper back into the car, likely heading towards the airport to escape your blade-like words.

"You know, you're a lot dorkier than I originally thought," you mention absentmindedly. "I didn't know you were such a nerd about your guns. Maybe you should find a better hobby?"

"Funny," he retorts, rolling his eyes. "Coming from the agent who makes _bombs_ in her free time."

"Yeah, yeah. So why are you looking at me like that?" you ask curiously, heading into the warm hotel lobby, brightened with crystal chandeliers and light music.

"You're terrifying." Sakusa shakes his head.

You raise an eyebrow. "That's a bad thing? Would you rather have those two rat us out? Everything's settled now, isn't it? All we have to do is get Daisho to send back the necklace. He and Mika-chan won't have to hide in another country out of fear for their safety."

"Poor Bobata looked like he was about to pass out," muses Sakusa, heading towards the elevator.

"What's this? Are you capable of making jokes now?" you simper at the man, who immediately ignores you, turning away. On his face is a semi-permanent grimace. "This is rare- I don't think I've ever heard you joke before!"

"Shut up."

"Ah, so you're back to being mean to me now. I've done nothing else but be kind to you. You were acting kind of strange this morning, but I guess the cold air made you revert back to normal." The words keep flowing from your mouth.

It's weird. You don't think you've ever been this comfortable around him before.

"(Surname)," he mutters, punching the button to the floor of your shared room and Daisho's room.

"Yes, Sakusa-san?" you emphasize the honorific. "Honestly, at least use the -san!"

"Shut. Up."

You wave your hand in front of your face as the golden elevator doors open up. "Yes, yes, Your Grace."

As the two of you turn the corner, your feet stamping against the crimson velvet of the floor, you stop in front of the door of the room next to yours. Sakusa does the honor of knocking, and the sounds of shuffling from the other side are made apparent. After a few seconds that feel like eons, the door opens to reveal an exhausted Daisho.

"You're back," he notes, moving to the side to let the two of you in. "Mika is picking up dinner from some restaurant downtown. How did everything go?"

"Fine," you say, shrugging and finding a chair to sit down on. "They won't be coming after you and Mika-chan as long as you do one thing. They aren't really a threat and have just been tracking you down because you have something they've wanted to procure."

"Which is...?" presses Daisho, leaning against the door frame as a frown settles on his lips. "What did you promise them? Money? Ugh, I really don't have any extra funds if they want money from me-"

Sakusa shakes his head, obsidian curls falling into his eyes. "No, the heir of Johzenji wants this necklace you've taken from him. Supposedly, it's an heirloom. He wants to keep it in his family, and he'll likely leave you and Yamaka-san alone once you've returned it."

Daisho groans, massaging his temples. "That's _it_? Terushima just wants his fuckin' necklace back? I hired extra bodyguards and traveled out of the country in hiding because of a necklace that they aren't even going to take action for?" he complains, falling onto the vast mattress of the bed.

"It would be a good idea to return to Japan then," you advise absentmindedly. "With this out of the way, you'll be able to focus on the list of potential criminals and maintain your approval rating. Did your encounter with your friend help much?" you ask, toying with your scarf.

"Right," says the governor, immediately sitting back up. "Sorry to keep having to put you to work, but I've heard about an important meeting from Hiroo. He says it'll take place between some European and Asian diplomats in Hokkaido in a week. We'll have to return to Japan, but make sure to prepare for it. I'll need you to infiltrate it."

"More espionage business?" here you were, thinking you'd continue to decode any pieces of data from Hiroo or something. Having to engage in such an important meeting without getting caught already sounds straining on your exhausted body.

"Sorry," apologized Daisho, looking surprisingly regretful. "I know it's been a lot of work recently, but I'm afraid you won't be getting any breaks so long as I keep getting death threats. Hey, if I stop getting them within the next few days, you won't have to sneak into the meeting!"

"You're probably faring off worse than we are," points out Sakusa. "We aren't the ones worrying about our own lives."

"Johzenji probably wasn't the one sending you death threats, so we'll definitely have to attend the meeting," you agree nonchalantly, though your bones scream with fatigue. "The three of us and Mika-chan will just have to keep working until we find the culprit."

The door swings open, revealing a chipper Yamaka, with bags of food dangling on her forearms. "I'm back!" she says cheerfully, setting aside her shoes by the entrance. The smell of Indian cuisine is sharp, encircling the room with the promise of spices and butter.

"So," she begins. "What'd I miss?"


	12. RESILIENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation of plot and u are about to go into a meeting. your interns go beep bop boop to let you sneak in.

_sorry for the long wait! my job was p demanding this summer!_

_and special shout-out to the sweet anon who donated to my ko-fi, hope you've been reading Pandora's Box!_

* * *

The faint smells of candied peaches, Bleu de Chanel, and waxy ink linger on the dry, cream manila folders that feel like a roll of parchment beneath your fingertips. You try desperately to ignore the way Sakusa's gaze pierces through you like a hawk's beak as you flip through the myriad of death threats, printed out clearly for you both to see.

Shortly after the short international trip to England, the two of you hadn't had much interaction with each other- not until the two of you were summoned by Shimizu to glance over the threats that had wriggled their way into Daisho's life again. In a sense, the two of you were back to square one with the way the election is approaching. At this pace, you could easily- and quite unfortunately- picture a scenario in which you fail to track down the culprit and fail to prevent Daisho's likely assassination.

It's been three days since you've seen Sakusa, the governor, or even Mika-chan, but that doesn't mean you haven't been working at all. In fact, the dark circles stamped under your eyes say otherwise.

"You're staring- have anything you need to say to me?" you say, closing up the last of the threats and placing the final paper into the folder.

"You read quickly," Sakusa notes casually, shrugging. "I suppose this means we'll have to pay Suguru-san another visit."

"Didn't know the two of you were on a first name basis now," you mutter, pushing the folders and paperwork away from you until your fingers reach familiar metal and oxidant- something that doesn't get unnoticed by Sakusa.

His lips pull back in a slight sneer. "Didn't know you made your explosives in public like this."

"These are much weaker," you point out, looking up from the fiddling of materials in your hands. "And we're still well within Hyuukai's building. If I had to go underground every time I made something, you'd never see me up here-"

"Senpai!" bellows Muraki, that chatterbox intern of yours. "There's someone on the phone for you- oh! You're making a stun grenade without me? You promised to show me last time!" he hands you one of the company's burner phones and glowers at the heap in front of you

"I did no such thing," you retort, dusting off your hands to snatch the device from his hands. "This is (Surname) speaking."

"(Surname)-san," comes the governor's response from the other line. "I'm sure you've received and reviewed the files I've sent over, correct?"

At the sound of the governor's voice, your posture immediately improves like your grandmother was watching. As you straighten the kinks in your back, your hyperactive intern peeks at you with interest, eyes widening with curiosity until his face is practically at your face. With a roll of your eyes, you plant your free hand onto his forehead and push, sending him back into his seat. Sakusa snorts at this, but his eyes burrow into yours like fiery coal.

"I read something about a meeting? It's the one we talked about earlier, right?" you confirm, glancing back at the paperwork lying only inches away from your experimental pile. "Hosted by some people in power, I suppose?"

"Bingo! Some mayors, some diplomats, some big-name consultants, and even a few upcoming business owners. It's really a mix of everything, and while I haven't been invited, I can already tell something fishy is going to be happening," replies Daisho, voice muffled from the other end of the phone. "Of course, that's where you and Kiyoomi-kun will step in."

Figures if you and Mika-chan are on first name basis, both Daisho and Sakusa are as well.

"And why this meeting in particular?" you ask. "Are these people some potential suspects?"

"Mhmm. The date and time is on the second to last paper. How the two of you get in is up to you, but I'm expecting a report by the end of this week," he mentions slowly, and you grimace, for you had never been the keenest writer during literature classes. "Anyways, I trust you to get this figured out on your own."

The phone is snatched away from your hand, now empty and twitching at only air. "Of course," says Sakusa smoothly, the affirmation as smooth as decadent chocolate. "We'll be sure to keep you updated." And with that, the line clicks off, and the two of you stare at each other.

"I had that covered," you finally respond once the obsidian-eyed agent hands your intern the burner phone.

"You were taking too long," Sakusa retorts.

You're not sure what you'd expected from him-- or even the bouncy Muraki, who immediately thrusts a hearty grin your way. "Oh, wow! Wow, is this the mission I've been hearing about? Y'know, Yamaguchi and I are stuck just getting coffee for Shimizu-san or Tanaka-san nowadays when we aren't coding. Hey, he's the better one of us, but for me?" Muraki punches the air swiftly, grinning wildly. "Why don't you guys take me along? I'm much better in action!"

"You're like fifteen," you scoff, waving your hand as you return to your heap of metals. "No way. You'd only get in our way."

"I'm seventeen," Muraki protests. "And I'd be just fine!"

"Still too young- _what the fuck_?!" you gape at one of the pages in Sakusa's hand as he presents it to you.

"Don't curse around children," Sakusa scolds.

Muraki looks visibly frustrated. "I'm a month away from being a legal adult!"

His claims, however, fall upon deaf ears as Sakusa continues to wiggle the sheet of paper in the air before you snatch it from his grasp. Your eyes roam over the hardly legible handwriting scrawled in the upper left corner of the paper. Half in disbelief and half in annoyance, you glance back at the curly-haired man.

"Tomorrow?" you ask, grimacing. "Damn, he gave us no time to even come up with anything."

"Are you really that surprised?" he sighs, slipping the papers back into the folder. "The meeting is at Rhysin's headquarters, right? We'd be able to slip in under the guise of touring the building since they're open with their tours. The main issue is making it to the top floor, where the meeting will probably be held. Getting to the elevator would take some stealth, but it wouldn't work without a proper key card..."

You slap your hand against your forehead. "A key card... We'd have to sneak it from an office or something, but knowing Rhysin, those consultants would have everything locked and automated. Not to mention the key card might not even let us onto the top floor..."

"A bit of programming should unlock the doors, and if we can reprogram the key card, we'd be able to get up there..." Sakusa mutters, falling back onto his seat as he massages his temples. "I'm not too great at pick-pocketing, so that's out the window..."

"Reprogramming..." you say under your breath before your eyes widen and flicker towards the dark-haired teenager sitting by you. "Muraki-kun, today- er... tomorrow's your lucky day!" you declare, pointing an soot-covered finger towards him.

His amber eyes light up. "Am I dreaming? You're gonna say what I think you're gonna say, right?"

"You better not screw this up for us," you emphasize, placing a hand on his shoulder. Unbothered by the dirty hand, he beams at you. "We might be able to find some key cards in some higher-up's office. You're going to hack into the security system and open a door for us, got it?"

"Easy!" he boasts. "Oh man, you aren't gonna regret this. Oh man, oh man..."

"That's not all," says Sakusa, sending him a piercing look. "This should take place a few hours before, so you need to be able to reprogram the key card in the bathroom or something. Shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Muraki scoffs. "Oh, please! If anything, I'd be worried about you. How're ya gonna be able to sneak past all of those guards and security cameras?"

You glanced at him sheepishly. "About that..."

"Seriously? Man, I'm gonna be the workhorse?"

"Hey! Be lucky I'm giving you this chance!" you point out. "This important of a job would go to Yamaguchi. Actually, I'll probably have him help out. He can probably disengage the cameras from here, but we'll need you on site to reprogram the card."

"Fair," Muraki sighs. "How hard could this be? Especially with both of us."

Apparently, it could be _very_ hard.

It isn't like your interns _aren't_ capable- in fact, the only reason why you had conceded to take them under your wing had been precisely because they had been exceptional in both the practical and written assessments Hyuukai gave all employees. Even as young teenagers, both of them are able to decode, reprogram, and play around with security systems like a cat pawing at a new toy. Should any other agency grab a hold of them, you know you'd be in a rough situation. With the two boys by your side, practically every mission has been a walk in the park. Not that you'd ever tell them, but they've been making your life much easier and are arguably indispensable and core parts to your team.

Regardless of how adept they are in their field, breaching a security system as walled up and guarded as Rhysin's has got to be one of the more frustratingly difficult tasks you've given them. The next day had approached much quicker than anticipated- with a hurried lunch and a thirty minute drive to the headquarters, the three of you found yourselves stuck outside waiting for Yamaguchi's approval. As the late afternoon sun does nothing to warm up your shivering body in the cold, brisk air, you impatiently tap your feet at the ground, effectively annoying both the males behind you.

"What's the status, Yamaguchi-kun?" you ask, shivering.

"Almost there," comes his tired voice. "Oh!"

"What is it?" you ask curiously, pressing two fingers against the earpiece. 

"(Name)-senpai, I hope to the high heavens I don't jinx this... but I think everything's ready. Once you're ready, send me a signal, and I'll disengage the security system for all the office doors and the cameras. You'll have only forty seconds at most, so you need to be stealthy with this." There's a sigh of relief from his side. "Sorry it took so long, and I think I've got it now."

Sakusa nods his chin towards the entrance before heading over. "Don't worry. You did fine. We'll keep you updated, but we're about to head in now," you inform the intern.

"Don't worry- I think I can keep an eye on your progress with their security cameras, but I won't do anything until you tell me."

As you hurry towards the entrance where your two companions are getting patted down by security guards, you admire the building. Even from the outside, the dark glass windows and tall structure of the building make the headquarters seem like the kind of agency that would host supermodels or esteemed scientists or something. There's something so ominous yet alluring about it. Once you've finished bypassing the initial security done by the guards, you hurry towards the two agents.

"There she is," says Sakusa, immediately placing one hand on the small of your back and leaning in. "Play along, (Surname)," he whispers lowly into your ear. "My wife was just finishing up a call, but this is the third person in our party for the tour. How much longer did you say it was for the next tour?"

You try not to let the annoyance show on your face. "Only around a few more minutes!" the peppy receptionist cheerfully responds. "Once around three more people sign up for the tour, I'll hand you all off to my colleague!"

"Right..." you say, all too aware of the familiar cold fire trailing up your spine from a certain agent's touch. 

As always, the living contradiction of his finger tips are all too familiar. Glacial and scorching, tender and aggressive. You're never sure what to make of it- or what to make of him, nonetheless. It leaves a bittersweet taste upon your tongue and churns your insides with discomfort. It makes you falter and stop in your tracks just like the fluency of a toddler. It's like an old, childhood bully with a crush on you. So reminiscent of taunts and silver tongues but so innocently sweet. You know better; you always do.

Then, a burly tour guide is guiding you down the modern, dark flooring of the headquarters and up well-lit stairs, where the steps glisten with sapphire specks- like dusts of gems are scattered across the floor. Silver railing is cool to the touch, and everything the tour guide is saying flies by your ears as you marvel at the intricacy and vastness of the interior. In comparison to Hyuukai's opalescent and marbled interior, Rhysin is dark, brooding, and almost a little mysterious. 

"...twenty years ago..." drones the tour guide as you follow him into the glass elevator. "...Mr. Jine..."

Sakusa nudges you. "You should at least pay attention."

"I don't want to talk to you right now," you say honestly, mind too frazzled to carry a proper conversation with him.

A pair of teenage girls giggle at your response before easily pulling handsome Muraki into a conversation about his hairstyle or something dumb, like the wash of his jeans. Sakusa only responds by rolling his eyes. You can pick up something about the tour guide talking about offices of day to day workers, but that's not what you're really concerned about. As the twentieth, thirtieth floors pass by, the doors finally open to an area embezzled with lively chatter, the smells of a coffee shop, and fancy tables and chairs.

"...dedicated to leisure and visitors..." the tour guide continues to ramble about the floor. "...fifteen minute break... meeting back here..."

Almost immediately, you're dragging both of your men out the elevator and towards am empty corner with only a single chair and table. The wide glass windows make you feel like as if you're looking down onto Tokyo from a clock-tower, but no one seems to pay your group any attention. The group and other visitors are too preoccupied by the giant screens and indoor fountain to care.

"Senpai, are you kidding? I didn't even get their numbers," Muraki complains, grumbling as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his supposedly dark-wash jeans.

"There should be a few offices on this floor along with this cafe, right?"

Muraki taps his index finger on his chin. "Urgh... yeah... if I remember all the map levels correctly... they should be located over there. Hey, you two got this figured out, don't you?-"

"No, my sweet, smart pupil," you coo, reaching over to squeeze his cheeks. "You'll be following us to reprogram this. You got your laptop, don't you?"

"But those girls were _cute_! I don't get paid enough for this!" he complains, following you down an empty hall, dimly lit with floor lights.

"No simping," you scold. "You're seventeen- you don't even need all this money. Plus, you only spend your money on PC parts or whatever. Even if you succeeded in getting their numbers, you don't have enough to take one of them out, let alone both." The three of you slink behind a corner, untouched by any camera.

"What? In this day and age, we young-bloods are all for going Dutch-"

"Yeah? Yamaguchi, I think we're ready." You briefly check the area for any guards or unspotted cameras.

"Got it. Disengaging... and we're good. Remember. Forty seconds, (Name)-senpai." You hear a click from the door closest to you, and with a peek around the corner, the security cameras have gone blank.

"I can do it in twenty," you snort.


	13. GAMBIT

The thin, flat key card burns against your flesh, strapped into place by the waistband of your pants, but its smoldering touch pales in comparison to the white, hot lie slipping from your tongue as the tour guide gives you a worried look. You feel dizzy; for a split second, you had thought that the burly guide had your plan all figured out before he had started giving you such concerned glances.

"She's fine," Sakusa reassures the tour guide and the two teenage girls behind him, sneakily whispering to one another whilst giving the three of you curious glances. "The pregnancy can be tough on her some evenings."

You nearly grit your teeth. Again with the pregnancy lie?

Muraki nudges you. "Nee-chan, you need to go sit down somewhere?"

The teenage girls nearly swoon as their whispers grow in volume. "Oh, he's so considerate, too!" one gushes to her friend as her companion giggles.

"Ma'am, if you aren't feeling well, feel free to stay in the rest area for as long as you need to," says the tour guide, his eyes widening with concern. "If you feel well enough to join us, you'll be able to join another group from the beginning."

"How useful," you wheeze out, clutching onto your fake, unborn baby for emphasis. "Can we go sit down in the corner?" you send your darling husband your puppy eyes. "I don't wanna see out of place or worry any of the bystanders."

Sakusa, ever so the brilliant actor and quick to notice your hints, nods immediately. "Of course. Thank you for your tour thus far," he mentions to the tour guide, who waves and returns to the rest of the group. Muraki pouts as he parts with the doe-eyed ladies but follows you after a few longing glances.

Once the three of you are seated into a corner right by a row of potted plants, you watch the group from the corner of your eyes. Just as you had figured, the group disappears from your field of vision, leaving you open to attack.

"Senpai?" comes Yamaguchi's voice from your earpiece. "I noticed you stopped by the plants. Did something happen?"

"Just trying to shrug a few prying eyes away. I think we're ready to board the elevator to the top floor. Can you cover us by getting into the system again until we get up there?" you murmur, hiding your lips with your dominant hand.

"Ah, right. I can't do much, but I think I can disable things until you reach the floor."

"We don't need that much time," says Sakusa, already dragging both you and Muraki towards the elevator. "But we need to hurry. The meeting might start soon, and I don't think we're so lucky that they'd just wait around for it to start."

Muraki rolls his eyes but steps into the elevator with ease. "Hey, why don't you try asking them?" he suggests dryly, quickly pushing a button to close the elevator doors before anyone else can hitch a ride to the top floor with the three of you.

"Yamaguchi-kun, we're counting on you!" you mumble as both you and Sakusa ignore the dark-haired, snarky ogre next to you.

"Roger." Your intern's voice is firm. "Alright, it's done. I think I can hold on, but be careful in case if there's anyone else around. Disabling the cameras can only do so much when there are actual folks around!"

You swipe the key card onto the red, glowing light until it bleeds into yellow then a reassuring green. Once it blinks with approval, you hastily uncover the hinged panel to reveal a button with a star on it. "This has gotta be it, right?" you mutter, half to yourself, as you press the button.

Time drags on as the glass elevator, lined with platinum and stardust, buzzes with movement. The soft cello music is hardly recognizable in comparison to the drumming of your heartbeat that feels so heavy in your chest. Even the spunky intern besides you has nothing to say; instead, his lips are drawn back in between his teeth. He must be nervous, considering this is the first time you've taken him out on a proper mission. As if sensing discomfort from his temporary teammate, Sakusa clears his throat while placing a somewhat reassuring hand on his poor junior's shoulder, though Sakusa's hand leaves almost immediately due to his affinity for sanitation.

Then, the elevator clicks open, and to your relief, no one is waltzing in the halls. The floor is dangerously quiet and cold. As your shoes gently squeak on top of polished marble, you sneak around, eyeing certain doors that might look important. To your right is a set of tall, charcoal doors decorated with luxury. There are no windows in this room, so it must be some kind of conference room.

"This might be where they'll be, right?" you whisper to your partner.

Sakusa eyes the set of doors, his lips pulled down into a slight frown. "Looks promising enough-"

Mild chattering. Footsteps. The scribbling of pen against paper.

The three of you freeze into place.

"...have been proclaiming that..."

The voices are right around the corner, but your joints, despite having been doused with prior experience and agility, are locked into abeyance. Someone- you aren't sure who it is- latches onto your upper arm, and your body is yanked backwards into a bright, blinding room that smells of cleaning supplies and lavender. A fleeting look to your left shows a mirror, with Sakusa hastily pulling you further into the bathroom as Muraki desperately tries to close the door as quickly and quietly as he can. 

"You _fool_ ," hisses Sakusa. "If you hear people coming, the very least you could do is get away of the way before causing us any more trouble."

There's a lump in your throat. "I know," you reply shakily. "Caught me off guard."

His grip on you softens. "We don't have time for this," he emphasizes before finally letting go of your upper arm. "They're probably about to start that meeting, but we still have to find a way in..."

Muraki looks up, lazily pointing his index finger upwards. "Considering this bathroom is so close to the meeting room, maybe we could get Yamaguchi to confirm the layout of air ducts on this floor? Senpai, since you're the smallest one of us, you might be able to fit in, and you can just listen in through that?"

"How cliche can this get?" you respond, eyeing the entrance of the ventilation duct. 

Sakusa crosses his arms. "Good grief. This entire plan has just been based on luck."

"Actually-" you can hear Yamaguchi pipe in through the earpiece. "I just looked at the building layouts. It should be fine, but the only concern is just making sure you're quiet enough to slide through."

"No kidding," you mutter, glaring a hole into the duct. "Hey, Muraki! What are you doing?"

"Chill, chill," the dark-haired intern laughs, sliding the metal layer off and placing it on the porcelain toilet tank. "What? Did you think I'd really come here without any infiltration tools? Those security guards are total ass if they couldn't even find these on me," he snorts, handing his tool ring to a disgruntled Sakusa.

"Don't just give this to me," barks the curly-haired agent, who places the tool ring onto the bathroom counter. "Who knows where it's been?"

Muraki rolls his eyes. "Well, it's been by my butt, but with that attitude? Clearly it's been up _yours_ -"

"Stop, stop, stop!" you hiss out, climbing onto the toilet. "The two of you better behave when I'm away!" you threaten, trying to stay steady with your wobbly knees.

"Wait," interjects Sakusa, who pulls out a small device. "Record anything you can."

"Is this necessary?"

"Yes." His voice is firm.

You snatch the device away and attach it to the collar of your shirt. "Yeah, yeah," you hiss out. "Yamaguchi, you hearing everything? I want your ears to listen on this too," you say to the smaller device hidden with your hair as you reach upwards and jump up, latching onto the sides and pulling yourself up. "Good God," you wheeze, struggling to pull yourself into the metal-based ventilation duct.

"I'm good on this side. You in?" asks Yamaguchi.

"Barely," you pant out, ignoring the Muraki's faint giggles from below you.

"I believe in you."

"Yes, yes."

The metal pulling on your skin is cold, relentless, and has too much damn friction. With the way you try to wriggle your way forward, you feel like an ungraceful slug. Your lips feel dry, only exacerbated by the chill of the building, which is almost in full blast up in this vent. 

A meter in front of you reveals an entry way. Light pokes out in thin stripes from the slits of the vent cover. Once you finally manage to creep your way closer towards the opening, you pause and peer down below. Just below you is a large, ivory table that hosts a great number of people dressed in pretentious business wear and feigned politeness. Bingo.

"...with the auction coming up..." the voices are soft, but you can make out most of their words.

"An auction, huh?" Yamaguchi's voice is even softer.

"The auction... perfect excuse to hide... don't you agree?"

Oh?

"...we can't let him down, after all..."

Let _who_ down? "...March 24th..."

That's not too far from now.

"...hmm? Right... with Date Ko... Futakuchi-san is helping _him_ host the auction."

"Gotta be careful... I heard Daisho-" your ears perk up at this, but the rest is muffled. "Maybe Futakuchi-san can figure out why the boss wants Daisho dead..."

You feel alive and cold at the same time. Now you know for certain that someone is trying to assassinate the governor for sure, but if even these folks didn't know, it'll continue to be a tough journey from here on out. From what you could make out is that this... _boss_ , whoever he is, is in charge of an "auction" and wants the governor dead. Whoever this Futakuchi character is could be a pivotal point for you; if you can grab some more intel straight from the source, you might be able to find out true motives behind the auction and just exactly who this "boss" is.

You make a face. Seriously? _Boss_? That's the best they could come up with? What a distasteful-

_Beep beep beep._

Oh, great.

You squeeze the small recorder on your collar, swiftly shutting it off. It must have run out of storage since you _had_ been recording for quite some time now. Biting your lips and wiggling your way back, you pray none of them have heard it.

"...did you hear that?" 

Perhaps it had been due to your adrenaline and panic mode, but you had managed to scale your path all the way back down in half the amount of time you had taken before. You land onto the toilet as best as you can, and the two males eye you curiously. 

"What did you find out?"

"You never told me this thing would beep when it ran out of room!" you accused, shoving the device into Sakusa's chest. "I'm worried they heard. We should get out of here while we can. Yamaguchi and I will fill you on the details back at the agency."

Sakusa's nose crinkles with dissatisfaction. "You're _kidding_."

Muraki's eyebrows raise in worry. "This sound serious. We should go?" his hand rests on the door knob.

"Follow me," Sakusa orders, peeking out of the door before opening it and leading you and Muraki out.

"Cameras are disabled," interjects Yamaguchi, and you thank him mentally.

To your utter horror, a security guard looks up from his phone and eyes your party with bewilderment. "Huh?" he says, marching towards you. "This floor is for authorized personnel only. Who are you?" he snaps.

Before the round security guard can catch you, you turn your face before he can see. "Move it," booms Sakusa, and the urgency of his voice compels you to obey.

Your frenetic steps sound like booms with the way your blood rushes in your ears. The security guard is muttering something into his radio, and the lump in your throat has returned. Promptly, Sakusa pushes you past another door where a set of staircases stands before you. The stairwell is dimly lit- half of the light bulbs are either broken or dead, which is quite ironic for such an esteemed building. Considering no one ventures to the top floor, you suppose it makes sense; why would the staff feel any need to replace the bulbs if no one even takes the stairs?

"We're going up?!" you sputter, though you insistently push Muraki up. "Sakusa-san, we can't escape like this! We have to go before the back-up arrives!"

"I knew something like this would happen," he growled, racing up the stairs. "This plan of yours had too many holes to begin with, so I secured an escape route in case things turned sour- which it obviously did. Couldn't you have kept quieter during the meeting?"

Is this man serious? As you climb the stairs quickly, you can't help but gawk at him in impudence. "What? It's not _my_ fault you decided to give me this stupid device! Yamaguchi could have recorded it for us anyways, but you-"

"Hey, I know this might not be the best time, but how on earth are we supposed to escape? This looks like it'll go up the roof," laughs Muraki nervously. 

You shake your head, even though the two of them are too preoccupied with going up the stairs as fast as they can to see the brisk movement. "No, that is a _great_ point. Tell us, Sakusa-san- what's this great escape plan you have in mind?" you retort snidely, squinting your eyes to see better in the dark. You can occasionally hear the crunching of shattered light bulbs under your shoes.

"Hurry it up!" Sakusa orders, and you can see him slip on a mask despite being in the midst of all this chaos. "I had Suguru send over his helicopter just in case."

"... _You're joking!_ "

Your day is progressively getting cheesier and more cliche- like you're being pulled straight out of a book. The weight of your legs is getting heavier with every step, and every leap makes your legs throb with the beginnings of exhaustion. Just how many stairs are there until you finally reach the roof?

"Damn, a helicopter escape? I really feel like a secret agent now!" says Muraki excitedly, his voice muffled by his quick pants of breath. "This is the coolest escape route. Kind of extra, but..."

"Very extra and very unnecessary!" you spit out as Sakusa forces the door to the roof open.

"And it'll save our asses, so pick it up," he snarls back.

"The guards are catching up with you! Make sure they don't see your faces," warns Yamaguchi through the earpiece.

Blinding sunshine greets you, and in the haste, you lose your footing on the final step before crumbling to the cold, rugged ground. The impact is enough to send reverberations from your knees to the base of your skull; however, the impact is negated in comparison to the throbbing pain in your hands. After a quick glance, you can see shards of broken glass- likely from a shattered light bulb.

"They're over here!"

The sound of unfamiliar voices behind you forces you back up, and just like how Sakusa had promised, a helicopter awaits in front of you. Ignoring the pulsing, throbbing sensation in your palms, you do your best to pick away some of the bigger shards of glass before you make it to the helicopter pad.

"Senpai, you're hurt!" notices Muraki with horror.

"I'm fine," you respond, gritting your teeth as you slip into the helicopter behind them. In reality, the liquid crimson trickling down your wrists is unsettling and hardly distracting from the sheer pain in your palms, like they've been lit after being doused with kerosene. Your shaking fingers are the least of your concerns though.

The helicopter takes off before the guards can make it, and you stare at the building for a few minutes until it disappears from your sight. When your party is finally miles and miles away, you turn to the rest of the group. With a quick glance, you can see Daisho's normal chauffeur start sweating bullets under the pressure. You want to apologize to him, but Muraki sucks in a sharp breath, jolting you out of your thoughts.

"There's..." Sakusa practically bores a hole into your bleeding hands with his hands. "The-there's... so much..."

"I won't touch you or anything," you reassure him, letting your intern wipe away the blood from your palms with some tissues. "Muraki will help me out if you're worried about the blood. It isn't that much."

Sakusa doesn't respond; instead, his eyes, widened with horror, stays fixated onto your twitching hands as Muraki carefully rids your hands of leftover glass with a pair of tweezers from the helicopter's first aid kit. It burns, but it's a small price to pay for what could come later.

"Sakusa-san, is everything alright?" you ask, but he doesn't respond again.

"Senpai, this looks kind of rough. You should go to the clinic back at the agency once we return," your intern advises, tenderly wiping your hands with an antiseptic wipe. "Don't want anything get infected, and this can only do so much. Wait! What if you need stitches?" he wonders, glancing at you with worry.

You shake your head. "If it means escaping, I don't care if I even get shot or something," you joke, attempting the lighten the mood.

"Eh? You won't get shot- we have such good laws with gun control in Japan-"

"You idiot!" roars Sakusa, startling both of you as well as the poor pilot.

"How could you say something as foolish as that? Do you really not value your own health? It's no wonder you get sick and hurt- you couldn't possibly fathom how to keep yourself out of danger if your life depended on it! You come in with a half-assed plan without any regards for your safety- if anything, it's a miracle you came out with only these wounds!" he spat out.

It's the first time he's ever yelled at you with such raw anger. He's always been a bit moody and snarky. While he's had no problem insulting you or giving you the cold shoulder, you haven't seen this kind of rage from him. Upon first glance, it might have looked different to outsiders like Muraki, but the blazing fury in his eyes is unfamiliar to you. His lips are pulled back in both fury and disgust, and his expression is like that of a wild animal's.

It scares you.

"Does the blood spilled not matter so long as it's yours? Do you take it for granted? Your safety for granted? You are unbelievably frustrating to watch- to listen." His breath is heavy and demanding, and you're frozen in place. The scariest part isn't just the foul outrage addressed to you but the frigid fear flickering in his dark irises.

Is he scared of _you_?

Unfamiliar. Cold. Why? Your thoughts are a mile a minute and scattered like a thousand piece puzzle. Suddenly, you think of the Sakusa who has taken you for dinner with Suguru's leftover money, the Sakusa who had bought you a Belgian waffle, the Sakusa who let you nap on his shoulder, the Sakusa who lectured you after drooling on him during you nap, the Sakusa who wrinkles his nose in disgust when you can't shoot the target properly.

_You're scaring me._

Sakusa's voice drops, and its icy claws grip your heart, holding your fear into place with a single grasp. "A-and there was _so_ much. How could you possibly ignore that?"

The trauma lingering in eyes is too much to bear, and you force your gaze down at your hands to escape the wrath of his glare. Red spots along the bandages that Muraki had hastily applied, and your head spins. The droplets of blood peeking through the snow white of the gauze vibrate as you peer at them. When you look up, Sakusa is gone.

You hadn't realized that the helicopter had landed. Something is wrong, and you want to find the answer. Your palms throb, and someone- maybe Muraki- is shaking you by the shoulders.

Something tells you that your partner's not talking about the blood of _your_ hands.


	14. FORELSKET

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sakusa shares some of his backstory with you

Days trickle by as the frost on your windows grows whiter, colder. Your heart is left as a shivering mass of regret, and your palms tingle with tenderness when your fingertips hover over the crisp windowsill. Distracted, you mindlessly flex your fingers. Most of your wounds have healed in the past few weeks; as a result of your injury, you hadn't been in action for quite some time. You suppose that it had been a good idea at the time, but now your restful break had cost you your boredom as well as part of your mission.

You wonder how Sakusa is faring on his own. The beginnings of February had been uneventful for the entire agency, not just your mission, but you still had yet to see the cold-hearted warrior ever since that fateful day. Memories of the terrified fervency in his eyes still linger within you. Even if you ask around for him, you haven't been able to pin him down since your last job.

A part of you wants to dissect what had happened- why had he been sent in such a frenzied rage at the sight of your blood? You know it couldn't have been just because of his germaphobia; if that had been the case, he would have scowled with disgust rather than such blatant fury or fear.

Even now, even after all this time spent with him, he's still an enigma to you.

Just what exactly happened in his past for him to have treated you like that?

It's frustrating. It's curious. It's eating at you every moment he's not in your sight. The only thing plaguing you nowadays is your mystery of a partner that seems to slip away with every attempt to grasp at him. And really, he shouldn't be so high in your list of concerns, considering how much Daisho had scolded you upon completing your previous job.

"You're _lucky_ they haven't been able to identify you," he had exclaimed upon your arrival. "Rhysin is not an enemy you'd want to make. One wrong move and you would have endangered all of us! I could reprimand you more, but... you got everything completed," he had finished, partially exasperated yet relieved. Had you not been bleeding and shivering with fear from Sakusa's presence, you might have found the governor's strained expression comedic at the time.

Thinking back on it, you wince. Granted, you should have constructed a better, a more feasible plan, and you were lucky to escape with only the consequence of scratched palms and nothing more. Your heartbeat still falters as your mind wanders off towards the memory of the dark staircase and the adrenaline that had fueled you.

A buzz from your phone jolts you from your thoughts. A text from Daichi.

_Did you eat yet?_

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you trace the phone screen with your thumbs to compose a response.

_not yet! you wanna grab something to eat?_

His response is almost immediate, coming only a few heartbeats after you had sent your text.

_Oh, I just finished up dinner, but Hajime was too much of a coward to give this cake to Oikawa, who ended up taking some rando out for a Valentine's date. He wants to know if you want it._

You wince- partially at the thought of Iwaizumi's unrequited feelings and Oikawa's density and partially at the fact that your playboy friend was willing to take some random girl out for such an important date. Still, if Oikawa isn't going to be eating the cake, it'd only go to waste in Iwaizumi's fridge. Knowing him, he wouldn't indulge on something so caloric, and neither would Daichi with his new dietary regime. 

_welllllll if no one's gonna eat it..._

Your phone buzzes again with the promise of confections.

_Haha, might as well treat yourself with this if you're staying at home or the agency tonight. You still in the conference room?_

With a quick confirmation text, you sent your phone aside and gather your things. A strange, prickling sensation gnaws at your throat. It's not every year that you spend Valentine's Day alone; most other years, you have the luxury of spending it with either someone you've been seeing or a few of your friends. Having been so focused on this international mission, you hadn't had the time to date around, and most of your other pals have either already made plans or turned in for an early night.

Muraki is out there chasing skirts or something while Yamaguchi had made plans to take his long-term girlfriend, Yachi, out for dinner. The only one you know hasn't gone home is clearly Daichi, but he'd probably console Iwaizumi after paying Sugawara a visit tonight.

"Wow, you've gone ahead and made this your secret base, haven't you? Hope you haven't resorted to rotting in here during Valentine's night." Daichi's sudden voice startles you as he brushes away your notes and folders to place the lavender gift box, decorated with a satin ribbon, in front of you.

"Don't make me sound like some kind of incel," you complain, catching the sight of the brunet. "What kind of cake is it?"

Iwaizumi's head pokes out from behind Daichi's silhouette. "Shortcake," grumbles the tired man. "Bakery was out of milk bread- not that it matters since he's out anyways..."

A frown makes its way to your lips. "Iwa-chan-senpai..." you trail off sympathetically.

The relationship between the two men has been... complicated to say the least. For someone as clever as Tooru, he has virtually no inking of how Iwaizumi feels towards him. Sometimes it gets hard watching them, even if Iwaizumi insists he's alright with just being friends for fear of ruining their relationship. Regardless, any mention of Tooru's lack of sense for actual romance makes a strange knot form in your throat.

"When you say my name like that, it kills any kind of pity you might feel for me," he snorts, rolling his eyes. "We all know he's an idiot anyways."

You and Daichi exchange a glance as a pit forms in your stomach. "Right." You're unconvinced.

"Anyways, speak for yourself, Ms. I'm-at-the-agency-at-nine-pm-on-Valentine's," adds Daichi. "Though I'd love to keep you company, I just wanna visit Suga tonight. Have you seen him recently?"

"Yeah," you respond, offering him a smile. You had gone to see him this morning to be greeted with some pleasant news. "The doctor says he's doing better with his recovery and is gonna wake up soon." You watch your friend's face transform with relief at your words.

"That's good news, isn't it?" Iwaizumi nudges Daichi. "What are your plans for the evening?"

You sigh, leaning back into your chair. "Dunno..." your life has been leaning towards the blander side ever since the mission.

He stifles a yawn. "If you wanna stop by later tonight, that's fine. Send me a text or something."

Daichi nods in agreement. "Can't leave your lonely ass alone here," he teases, and you suppress the urge to throttle the two men. "Let us know what you decide on!" he calls as the two exit the empty conference room.

It's not like you don't appreciate their invitation or that you don't want to see them. It's strange, but you aren't exactly in the mood to get drunk with the two men as you binge stupid, childhood movies. On any other day, you would absolutely be down to head over their way, but there's a fogginess in your mind that refuses to clear out- like you don't really exist in the moment. While more interaction is crossed off your list, you don't want to return to your cold, lonely home either.

Guess the agency is the only feasible option left for you tonight.

Sighing, you push your myriad of notes and papers into a large binder that fits right into your bag. The bag hangs from your shoulders, and the dainty lavender box weighs nothing in your hands. The conference room is suffocating, and there's only one place in the building that you can find solace in- the underground training room. Given the weather and time, there's likely no one in the room, which is a situation you'd welcome immediately.

Like you had predicted, the heavy air of the underground room is cold and hollow. The hard stairs feel like you're headed towards the underworld, but there's an uncharacteristic thumping noise coming from the corner of the room. You haven't anticipated anyone else being here, and you're half-curious as to who this could be.

As you peek around the corner, your grip on the satin ribbon tightens. Ghoulish in appearance, Sakusa aims for the worn target with his handgun. Pale and haunting, he looks like a dangerously handsome grim reaper, ready to harvest any lurking hearts. The dim lighting heightens his already severe dark circles, and you're frozen in place. The coldness around him is so unlike how he had been during his earlier bout of fury, and his iciness is all you can focus on. You might have considered yourself lucky to finally have him alone like this, but there's this untouchable air around him that makes you think otherwise.

But it looks like your quick glance has been noticed by the agent.

"Do you need something?" his back is still turned to you.

Your mouth feels awfully dry. "I didn't think anyone else would be here," is your honest response, brittle and blunt.

At the sound of your voice, his grip on his gun falters as he whips his head around to give you a startled look- like you've condemned him for all eternity. The wintery man looks as if he hasn't been sleeping or eating properly, and part of you questions if this is really him.

"(Surname)." For once, you don't mind that he's forgotten the honorific with your name.

"Sakusa-san," you reply, setting your belongings and the box down at a nearby table. "Have you been here all night?"

He fixes his posture and adjusts his blazer. "I was trying out a new mod for this gun... I must have lost track of time," he mutters, half to himself, as he polishes the weapon with the end of his shirt.

You can't help but smile. "You know... you come off as so cold, but I guess you're actually just a nerd obsessed with guns and sanitation." The joke falters as it leaves your lips, harshly reminding you that the two of you march to the beat of different drums.

He doesn't respond and refuses to meet your eyes, instead fiddling with his gun. The clouds of your breath add to the haze of your mind, and you can't bring yourself to say anything more to break the deafening and heavy silence settling between the two of you. Ironically, there's so much that you want to know- that you want to ask him; every question and statement falls flat on your tongue, lingering with the bitter taste of "what if's."

Like always, he's a book with no ending. The scent of longing and regret.

He's the first to speak. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating today?"

You snort. "Yeah, with who?"

He hums in response, reloading his gun. "I see."

Another round of tense silence. 

"Well... I came to clear my head, but Dai- er, Sawamura and Iwaizumi dropped off some cake for me. I don't think I could finish all of it since there's a few slices in there... if you want any." Your voice is meek, soaked up by the thick walls. Maybe you could use his sweet-tooth to your advantage. "It's shortcake, apparently."

He seems uncertain. "What? Am I just so annoying that you don't want to accept it from me?" you try to tease him.

"...I don't think you're annoying," he admits, pursing his lips.

His statement is enough to send a weird, unfamiliar jolt through you. It feels warm, and you have to suppress your smile. "Then... you'll share this with me, right?"

Sakusa finally glances at you, his obsidian gaze absolute. You're briefly reminded of the acridity from a few weeks ago, but you shrug it off to the best of your ability. "If you don't mind."

"I shouldn't be eating this all by myself anyways," you murmur, sitting down at the frigid table as you unbox the cake. Two slices of cake, decorated with whipped cream and strawberries, sit on top of wrapping and next to two, tiny forks. "Especially not this late at night."

He finds himself seated across the table from you. "This bakery is nice..."

"I've never tried it, but if you think it's good, I'll believe you," you answer, placing a slice in front of him and handing him one of the tiny forks. He doesn't take it. "What's wrong? Oh, my hands are clean, don't worry."

He looks strangely hesitant- like it's a foreign emotion to him. "Is... are your hands recovering well?" his gaze hones in on your fingers and palms. "It's just that..." he struggles to find the correct words. "You don't have any scars or bandages..."

Awkward Sakusa is a sight you never thought you'd ever see, but it is indeed a sight to behold.

"They're fine now," you confirm, taking a bite from a strawberry. "I think I can start coming back to the missions now."

"I see."

He's quiet once again, but the burn of your tongue refuses to go away. "Can I ask you a question?" you blurt out suddenly, playing with the whipped cream of your cake. You don't even wait for his answer. "Are you afraid of blood? I thought you acted strangely the other day, but I never got the chance to ask you. Your reaction just seemed too strong for just germaphobia, so..." you trail off.

His normally cold eyes resemble those of an injured animal right then. "I..." his voice is fragile. "Yes."

So you were right after all. Regardless, the curiosity dies in your chest as you observe the uncharacteristically soft and dainty expression on his face. You know you won't be able to forgive yourself if you push him too much just for the sake of your curiosity.

"There must be a reason why, but I won't force you to tell me," you respond, masking the sour taste of your interest with the sugar of the strawberry shortcake.

He shrugs, and the two of you enjoy the sweet dessert in silence. The air is cold, but there's a light sensation that seems to defy the gravity of the past. His hair gleams in the soft lighting of the room, and his dark circles are worse close up. Still, there's a composed expression on his face that makes up for the recollection of his wild eyes. You suppose this isn't a bad way to spend your Valentine's Day.

"Hyuukai wasn't the first agency I was assigned to."

Your head snaps up. "Huh?"

"I was a part of Chiyama Agency after I stopped modelling," he continues, picking away at the strawberries in between the spongy layers of vanilla cake. "Before it dissolved due to legal reasons, the agency gave me dangerous work. My... girlfriend at the time was against it, but the adrenaline and the risk was addicting. Crisis was something I always tried to look for."

Like a tsunami, your questions return, crashing down upon you and forcing you into a spiraling cascade of "why" and "how." You had been told that Sakusa was a rookie from another agency, not some kind of veteran like he's making it sound. At the very least, his answers confirm that he had been dating someone at some point, like you had suspected back when the two of you were in England, but you want to know _more_.

"Your girlfriend?"

"We met during a shoot when I was a model. Looking back, I should have listened to her warnings, but..." he trailed off, biting his lower lip as his eyes shine with a vulnerability that takes you aback. It's something you've never seen on him. "Once you taste the peak of peril, it's hard to go back. The sweetest of any drug."

"Mm." You can relate just the slightest. You weren't a risk-seeker by any means, but there's something so satisfying about getting yourself out of a pinch.

"Chiyama gave me a task for a gang in Hokkaido, but I must not have covered my tracks very well," he says shakily, sucking in a deep breath. "I couldn't finish my mission, and by the the time I returned home, she... she had been dead for two days- drenched in blood from her wounds. The... the agency helped me get her justice, but I quit immediately after that." His blued lips part as he tries to keep his breathing under control.

"Sakusa-san..." there's a different light to him that you can finally see- like the curtains have finally unveiled the vulnerabilities of his persona.

"I'm okay," he mutters. "It was years ago, and it get easier to talk about."

Icicles prick at your skin. Gangs in underground Japan are nothing to scoff at. To get killed by a henchman is one of the worst ways to go when it comes to gang-related danger, considering how easy it is to get deaths covered up. To get back at any one of them would have a hefty price to pay. When you rest your hands on top of his cold ones, he doesn't even move. Instead, it looks like he relishes your comforting touch, even just the slightest.

His hands are shaking. "I rejoined a few agencies to keep my mind off things, but everything reminded me of her for the longest time. I... think I can get by with hearing about her now, but I still can't stomach blood." His gaze returns to your hands. "It just reminds me too much of what I felt that day."

Suddenly, your chest feels like it's being pulled open. His reasoning explains why he had been so traumatized at the sight of your raw palms, and guilt claws at you. "I-I'm sorry. I was careless the other day. I don't want you to go through something like that again."

His shiny eyes meet yours. "...It wasn't your fault. It's not as bad as it was before. Hyuukai... Shimizu-san has helped me a lot. More than other agencies, and I'm moving onto the next part of my life, regardless of how long it takes."

You swallow hard. "Sakusa-san... Thank you for telling me. You're stronger than I ever imagined. It must have taken a lot to get to where you are now," you say with every ounce of sincerity and honesty you can muster.

He looks away- almost like he's embarrassed. "...My will has been an rocky journey." 

Part of you wishes that you had been there for him during his proper recovery, but you have to come to terms with that there's nothing much you can do for him except lend your support and accommodate to his growth. It certainly must not have been easy to go through, or even to tell you. It sparks a sense of gratitude in you to know that you've earned a bit of his trust for him to tell you such a personal part of his history. You can paint the picture of his personality now that you're closer to knowing who he really is and the reasons of his growth.

"I'm here for the rest of it."

He huffs, finally offering you the smallest of smiles. "Good grief. Are you always this cheesy?" he mutters, as he finally moves his hands from your grasp.

You disregard his pointed look. "Ah, I see you're reverting back to your mean self."

He frowns. "I am not mean."

"Say what you want."

"I'm not," he insists, eyebrows furrowing together.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "I prefer you better when you're mean. It's too weird any other way."

"Troublesome," he mutters, but you don't miss the smile of relief and smudge of whipped cream on his face.


	15. VERNALAGNIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> suga wakes up, so this obviously calls for a celebration

"Keep those flowers away from me."

The fragrant, spring-time peonies resting between your hands feel light; you've almost forgotten that you've been holding them since the moment you left the florist's only a few blocks from the building. Sakusa's wry comment is enough to send your eyes rolling to the back of your head in faint annoyance.

"They're just flowers," you point out, glancing down at the ballet pink petals sitting underneath your chin.

The sweet, aromatic peonies seem to smile back at you. Voluptuously full and perky, the dainty floral arrangement almost looks like it's been taken straight from a picture book. It's impossibly stunning- velvet petals kiss the ivory wrapping, and you hope from the bottom of your heart that the recipient likes it, regardless of Sakusa's irrelevant opinion.

"The pollen," Sakusa retorts, wrinkling his nose and looking at the bouquet with disdain- like he does with most anything else. 

"Please, they came from the florist's nearby. You don't have to worry about things like that- plus, they're not even for you!" you huff, squirming past him to reach your destination. "Didn't you hear?" you briefly turn back around to give him a small smile.

He looks mildly annoyed. "Apparently not. Tell me."

"Suga's awake!" you cheer, unable to stop the blossoming smile on your face. "Thought I'd come visit him. Why don't you tag along to meet him?"

A look of recognition passes by Sakusa's obsidian eyes. "Your old partner," he realizes, slowly trailing behind you. The sound of both of your footsteps, mingled and echoing in the large hallway, are full of curiosity and life- like a small kid vying to know the ending of an adventure book. "Is it really okay for him to accepting visitors so soon? His immune system must be weakened during this critical time-"

"You worry too much," you chide, interrupting the agent. "It's been a few days already, and I'm sure he's been wondering where I've been."

"But I'm sure he'd rather see Sawamura-san before you..."

"Hey!" you turn back to give him a somewhat disgruntled look. "He values my company very much, thank you. I made sure to not visit the first few days because I was sure Daichi wanted Suga for himself- not to mention he'd still need rest for a full recovery. I didn't know the two of you talked to each other, by the way." Your voice bounces off the white walls, amplified by the brilliant lights of the hallway.

"We aren't particularly close," Sakusa clarifies, tugging on the sleeve of your arm to pull you away from an anxious intern running down the hall with a stack of papers in her arms. "Watch it. Are the flowers really too big that you can't even see past them?"

There's that scent of his stupid cologne, dancing in the air as he pulls his hand away from your form. "Shut it."

"You shut it."

Had the flowers not been for Suga, you would have undoubtedly used the bouquet to whack your partner across the face. "My God, excellent comeback. Perhaps... are you some kind of child?" you drawl out sarcastically as the two of you come to a stop before an ajar door. To your right is a name tag; messily scrawled, Sugawara's full name lies on the wall.

Before Sakusa can retort whatever dumb answer he has for you, you reach out and push gently on the door. The smell of antiseptics, bittersweet and strong, hits you like a truck, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you're almost convinced there's a bucket of disinfectant sitting on the bed instead of your childhood friend from the jarring smell. The air is cold, despite the heater, and your heart gallops into your throat as a pair of warm, toffee eyes meet yours.

Immediately, the breath from your gasp is swept away by your shock and relief. Your heart feels impossibly heavy and light, like someone is tugging as if you were a puppet on strings. After weeks and weeks of waiting for his recovery, it's surreal, so evocative to see Sugawara sitting upright as a surprisingly chatty Daichi beams at you. Though he's paler than usual and there's a gauntness to his cheeks, the twinkling in your former partner's eyes is unmistakable and vivid.

"Finally!" the silver-haired male exclaims, letting go of Daichi's hand to wave you over. "I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about me! I've been waiting for ages, y'know!"

You want to laugh and cry at the same time. "You've been waiting for ages? Give me a break," you say, voice wavering and cracking at the end as you finally rush to him, a warmth spreading from your head to your toes as his breath lingers right above your ear from the tender embrace the two of you share.

"Is this for me?" he asks innocently, nudging the bouquet at his back and prying at your fingers.

"Well, they're certainly not for Dai," you tease, giving the dark-haired male a grand smile. "Do you like them? They were out of most everything else, but lucky for me, the florist had these left in stock!"

Daichi only rolls his eyes. "Feel free to get me some flowers one of these days though," he encourages.

Sugawara's smile is infectious. "You kidding? They're so fragrant and beautiful. Thanks, (Name)," he says sincerely before his caramel eyes wander towards the entrance, where a brooding figure stands. "So, you'll have to introduce me. Seems like I've missed out on a lot, huh? Maybe he's your boyfriend?" he suggests.

Daichi snickers at this.

A sucker punch to the gut. "No!" you exclaim, a little too quickly, and Suga arches a suspicious brow at your eagerness to deny his claim. "Um, this is Sakusa-san, my new partner for missions while you've been asleep. We've been working on the case with the governor," you answer, beckoning the winter devil over.

There's that familiar glint playing at Sugawara's eyes. "Sakusa...? Oh! Sakusa Kiyoomi," he realizes, snapping his fingers. "So you're the one that's been keeping her away from me, huh? You know, Shimizu requested that I serve as support, so I hope you'll welcome me to the team, Sakusa-kun!" he chirps, sticking his hand out.

To your surprise, Sakusa doesn't even hesitate in taking it in for a handshake. "I'm happy to have you," your partner responds, with more respect than he's ever shown you- honestly, it's a bit annoying.

"Though I will say, I'm sure they found a replacement for me so quickly!" Sugawara sighs jokingly.

"No way," you protest, setting the bouquet of flowers down on the bed stand. "When it comes down to men with the initials SK, you've got to be my favorite!" you insist, and Daichi rolls his eyes at your comment.

Now it's Sakusa's turn to look annoyed, and the glare he sends you almost makes you want to hide in a corner. Even with your new, unlocked part of companionship with the male, he's still just as scary as he has been for the past months. The way he looks at you makes you want to tape your mouth shut and never speak a word again.

Oblivious to Sakusa's frigid gaze, Sugawara just taps his chin in thought. "SK... in western countries, do you think initials would be KS instead?" he muses.

"You know, you really should be looking at the papers Shimizu dropped off since you'll be back in commission tomorrow." Daichi nudges the silver-haired agent, who groans in response.

"Shit, I forgot about that. Think I'll be able to play the sick role for an extra day?"

Both you and Daichi give him pointed looks. "Suga." The warning falls from your tongue easily- naturally.

He holds his hands up in defense. "Don't worry! I'll have everything memorized by morning," he promised.

"By morning?" comes a new voice. "You should study them now. Did you forget we were all going to have a celebratory dinner at Iwa-chan's place tonight? You won't have time to cram during the night, so you better knock that out now!" lectures Oikawa, looking as immaculate as ever.

"Hajime's place? Well, I suppose it is the nicest..." Sugawara relents. "Fine, fine, fine. You better all leave me to read before I get discharged. I'm kind of getting sick of Hyuukai's food anyways. Will you be cooking tonight, Tooru?"

"What?" you cry. "Is this something I wasn't invited to?"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "Dumbass, you just weren't here. Blame it on Shittykawa- he's the one who was supposed to send out texts," he gestures to the grimacing brunet. 

"Hey, I just forgot, okay? Oh, Sakusa-san, you're more than welcome to come. It'll be a good idea for you to get to know Sugawara if he's going to be providing support, after all!" Oikawa encourages, and you want to pluck off all his eyelashes for saying that. Knowing Sakusa, he'd be terribly uncomfortable with stepping foot in an colleague's house- especially if it's someone he hasn't interacted much with.

Just like you've predicted, Sakusa looks uncertain. "Ah..."

"It'll be fun!" Oikawa insists, digging around in his backpack to pull out a garish, teal notepad. He tears the top page out and hands it to a wary Sakusa. "But I'm afraid Iwa-chan doesn't have many ingredients at his place. Of course, we'll be busy cleaning the place, so I'd appreciate it if you and (Name)-chan went grocery shopping!"

Sakusa's eyes twinkle, and it's a sight you've hardly seen on his face. "You'll be cleaning the place?"

"Deep-cleaning," Oikawa corrects, grinning.

"Tooru," you hiss, grabbing onto his sleeve and tugging him down. "What are you doing? You know damn well Iwa-chan-senpai cleans his place every other day!"

"Relax," Oikawa murmurs into your ear. "Just trust me on this, okay?"

Trust him on what, exactly? Before you can voice your thoughts, Sakusa is urging you out the door. "(Surname), we'd better hurry. We've only got a bit of time before evening comes around, and we should hurry back so we can have time to prepare the meal," he mentions, folding the shopping list and handing it to you.

"You just want to hurry so you can see how they clean the apartment," you point out, ignoring the way the other males slyly grin at the two of you- their heated gazes burning into the back of your head with the intensity of a hundred laser beams. "I told you to use an honorific with my name! How many times has it been now?"

For the umpteenth time that month, he ignores you- unsurprisingly, of course.

Thankfully the food market is nearby- only a block away. The time passes by fairly quickly, and you're thankful- the February air is still chilly, and you aren't as resilient to the cold like how Sakusa is.

On the pale teal list in your hands is a short list of groceries for tonkatsu, ohitashi, and hiyayakko- not exactly what you'd personally pair together, but you trust Tooru's judgement enough that everything will taste fine together. It'll be a task to cook all of it in a short period of time, but it seems worth putting in the strenuous effort, considering Suga's healthy recovery and discharge.

Oikawa's bouncy, neat hand-writing is easy to read, and all the ingredients have found their way into your cart- apart from the last item on his list.

"I promise you, it's probably just spinach," you insist, trying to decipher the last bullet point. "It looks like he wants to make ohitashi, and I know he's only made it with spinach before."

"If he's asking for light soy sauce, he might want to marinate salmon. I think he's asking for salmon," Sakusa argues, his voice low and exasperated. 

"Salmon isn't even in season! And our main dish will be the pork, so we'll need another vegetable side dish besides the cabbage salad tonkatsu normally comes with," you retort, grabbing onto the cart's handle to wheel it over to the produce section. 

Sakusa scoffs. "If it's in honor of Sugawara-san, it'd be good to have more entrees as a celebration."

"We're having ohitashi for dinner," you say adamantly, ignoring how elderly couples gushed at the two of you.

"Weren't we like that when we were younger?" a gray haired grandfather chuckles.

Your cheeks burn at the comment, but thankfully, Sakusa seems to have not heard the remarks. With shaky hands, you pull out a produce bag and wriggle it open with great effort, hoping he doesn't notice the trembling of your fingertips.

Sighing, the raven-haired man shakes his head in defeat as you wrap up a few bundles of spinach. "Do as you please," he finally mumbles, just using the cart to support his body weight.

"Don't worry, I will," you respond assuredly. 

The resting of your shopping journey passes by quietly- so quietly that you often wonder if he's still trailing behind you. It's like he's a ghost with a will of his own; you had to urge him away from the pastries when you realized he had fallen behind. The two of you compromised on buying a small roll cake with strawberry whipped cream.

"For the celebration," he had insisted.

Liar. You know he wants to keep the leftovers since half of your group doesn't even have sweet teeth to the extent that he does.

As soon as all the items were checked out, the short trek to Iwaizumi's seems to have stretched out. The hollowed moon, thin and curved, provides very little light as the sky darkens to a deep periwinkle. With every step you take, clouds of breath hover in front of your nose for a split second before dissipating with a tender farewell.

Has it always been this cold? You can't remember the last time the wind bit at your nose and cheeks like this- maybe December? Early January? Regardless, your pace slows to that of a snail's. If it had been snowing, you aren't sure if you would have been able to walk all the way.

So when Sakusa snatches the bags in your hands, you're half-inclined to protest. "I can take those," you say stubbornly. After all, it's not snowing, and you don't need his help.

"I know," he responds, hardly sparing you another glance. 

"You're still holding onto the bags," you point out, attempting to catch up with him as chills run down your back. The two of you still have a block to traverse until you reach Iwaizumi's apartment complex. "Seriously, I can take them."

He shakes his head, charcoal bangs falling onto his forehead like a dusting of soot. "You're too slow. Just let me handle this."

"I'm not slow," you grumble, reaching for one of the bags in his left hand.

Sakusa swiftly shuffles his weight, preventing you from grabbing onto anything. "You are. Just let me handle this," he repeats, sighing.

"Why do you always insist on arguing with me?" you settle for reaching for his jacket pocket instead. "Tell me or I won't let go!"

Even with the dusk blanketing the town around you, you can see his eye twitch with annoyance. "You are such a child."

"Says the child." You roll your eyes.

"Now you're just arguing with me." The sun has set entirely now.

"Honestly, it's because it's a little entertaining," you admit, your grip on his jacket weakening as the two of you haul yourselves up to the second floor, where Iwaizumi lives. "Your reactions just make me want to argue with you."

"Well, there's your answer." Sakusa gives you a pointed look before knocking on the door.

You perk up, heart pumping in place. "Wait. What? What do you-"

"What took you so long?" chastises Oikawa, who ushers the two of you in. "Hurry up. We have a lot of cooking to do before the others get here!"

You miss the way Sakusa's eyes shine with mild mirth.


End file.
